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in;:  or  injuring  hunk- 
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. 


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I 

CAPTAIN    MOLLY   )1 


STORY 


BY 

MARY   A.    DENISON 

AUTHOR  OF  "THAT  HUSBAND  OF  MINE,"  "THAT  WIFE  OF  MINK," 
"  PETER  CREWITT,"  ETC. 


£/£tf  a  silver  thread  in  the  common  warp  of  life. 


What  would  I  do  to  win  your  love,  dear  heart  ? 
Give  up  all  hope  of  fame,  the  -world's  cheap  grace, 
Fortune's  emoluments,  fair  ambition 's  rule, 
All  greatness  that  would  sever  me  from  you, 
And  how  long  wait  ?     If  sure  you'd  love  me  still, 
Till  death  —  then  till  eternity  is  ours. 


BOSTON 
LEE  AND  SHEPARD  PUBLISHERS 

10    MILK    STREET 
l897 


COPYRIGHT,  iSgj,  BY  LEE  AND  SHEPARD 


All  rights  reserved 


CAPTAIN  MOLLY 


C   J.    PETERS   ft   SON,    TYPOGRAPHERS,    BOSTON. 
BERWICK   ft  SMITH,    PRINTERS. 


I  AM  reminded  here  that  no  less  a  personage  than  Dr.  Briggs, 
of  higher  criticism  distinction,  has  pointed  out  that  the  Salvation 
Army  has  recognized  the  working  equality  of  men  and  women  in  a 
quiet  practical,  way,  even  conferring  its  military  distinctions  with 
a  supreme  indifference  to  sex.  I  was  very  much  interested  in  the 
farewell  given  to  General  Booth  by  these  people  at  Carnegie  Hall 
on  Tuesday  night.  It  was  a  most  imposing  spectacle  of  several 
thousand  hard-faced  enthusiasts  of  both  sexes  who  have  given  their 
lives  to  the  doing  of  all  the  good  they  can  in  an  humble  way.  On 
the  stage  was  a  band  of  women  almost  lost  in  the  great  assemblage, 
save  for  their  white  scarfs.  But  when  the  slum  workers  were  called 
upon,  they  all  stood  up,  gaunt,  scarred  women  some  of  them,  but 
brave,  restored,  full  of  ardor  and  not  ashamed  of  their  burden.  I 
spoke  with  one  of  these  girls.  She  was  not  educated.  Her  fingers 
were  red  and  hard,  for  she  had  got  down  on  her  knees  and  scrubbed 
out  a  miserable  abode  to  sweeten  it  for  a  sick  wretch  —  but  her 
poor  heart  sang,  and  somehow  I  took  my  hat  off  to  her. 


2062168 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.     REINE i 

II.    THE  BABY 7 

III.  MOLLY 9 

IV.  AN  ENTERTAINMENT 18 

V.    A  SALVATION  BAND 26 

VI.     A  CONFIDENTIAL  TALK 32 

VII.    NAN 40 

VIII.     ENSIGN  HARRY 47 

IX.     RUSSELL  STAGEY 54 

X.     WHAT  THE  BANKER  THOUGHT 65. 

XI.     PREPARATIONS 76 

XII.     STACEY'S  DECISION 85 

XIII.  How  THE  BANKER  FELT 91 

XIV.  WHAT  CRUMP  THOUGHT 93 

XV.     How  THE  FIDDLE  CROONED 100 

XVI.     THREE  WORLDLY  HATS in 

XVII.    IN  THE  RECTOR'S  PEW 114 

XVIII.     COUSIN  LUCY'S  REIGN 120 

XIX.     THE  PROFESSOR'S  VERDICT 126 

XX.     A  STURDY  UNBELIEVER 139 


VI  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI.    THE  FACE  ON  CANVAS 146 

XXII.    JOHN  HARDY,  PRINTER 162 

XXIII.  MOLLY  AND  MANDY 172 

XXIV.  AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  BANKER   ....  188 
XXV.     MY  PRINTER 199 

XXVI.     AN  UNWELCOME  FOLLOWER 204 

XXVII.    A  SWEET  OLD  SONG 208 

XXVIII.    THE  LOST  CHILD 216 

XXIX.    CAPTAIN  MOLLY'S  ANSWER 226 

XXX.     THE  BAPTISM  OF  FIRE 237 

XXXI.    FINIS  AND  HAPPINESS 248 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   I 

RE  INK 

My  drain,  methinks,  is  like  an  hour-glass,  wherein  imagination  runs 
like  sands. 

BABY  BASSETT  was  a  marvel.  Even  in  that 
child-ridden  community,  Flagler  Tenement,  to 
which  some  wag  had  given  the  sounding  title  of 
PARADISE  FLATS,  where  the  minor  key  in  child- 
ish sobs,  and  the  major  key  in  childish  laughter, 
prevailed  from  morning  till  night,  that  Bassett 
baby  was  a  wonder  and  delight. 

Baby  Bassett  first  saw  the  light  in  a  cellar, 
which,  however,  made  no  difference  to  him.  It 
really  was  a  respectable  cellar,  as  cellars  go.  The 
floor  was  hard,  and  two  windows  let  in  daylight 
from  the  sidewalk.  At  night  it  was  brilliantly 
illuminated  with  a  tallow  dip. 

Inside  it  might  have  been  gloomy;  but  Reine 
Bassett,  the  young  and  pretty  mother  of  Baby 
Bassett,  cared  little  for  that. 


2  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

In  hot  weather,  before  that  adorable  baby  came, 
the  Bassetts  sat  upon  the  steps,  and  greeted  their 
neighbors,  who  might  be  expressed  as  legion. 

After  that  important  event  happened,  the  neigh- 
bors saluted  the  baby's  mother  with  something 
like  reverence. 

The  baby  was  like  a  pure  white  lily,  lying  in 
his  improvised  bed  made  in  a  big  clothes-basket. 
The  father  of  this  child,  Sebastian  Bassett,  was  in 
the  first  stages  of  alcoholic  decrepitude,  and  yet 
he  was  scarcely  thirty  years  old.  The  man  had 
a  history,  but  nobody  knew  what  it  was.  He  had 
no  business  to  be  either  a  husband  or  a  father; 
yet  there  he  was,  an  accepted  fact,  and  with  a 
superb  presence  that  declared  for  good  ancestry. 
His  life  was  largely  migratory.  The  only  reason 
that  he  lived  in  the  cellar  of  Paradise  Flats  was 
because  he  could  get  no  lower.  And  yet  the  soul 
of  an  artist  dwelt  in  that  marred  body.  At  one 
time  he  had  painted  marvellously  well.  His  pic- 
tures had  sold  for  good  prices,  but  every  cent  that 
came  to  him  was  spent  for  drink.  Now,  with  an 
unsteady  hand,  and  a  certain  scorn  in  his  brilliant 
eyes,  he  drew  wonderful  outlines,  when  he  was 
sober,  on  the  sidewalks,  and  rarely  failed  to  earn 
a  few  pennies,  which  he  spent  in  the  ale-house. 

His  wife,  poor  little  thing,  was  the  bread-win- 
ner. She  would  willingly  have  worked  her  hands 
off  to  provide  something  for  her  vagabond  to  eat. 

Sebastian  often  went  on  a  tramp.      Then  the 


REINE  3 

poor  woman  ate  her  crusts  with  tears,  picturing 
the  good-for-naught  in  all  sorts  of  danger;  and 
wild  was  her  cry  of  delight  when  he  came  safely 
back. 

Even  now,  when  dissipation  had  made  such  in- 
roads upon  his  face  and  figure,  he  was  a  handsome 
fellow.  Six  feet  two,  with  broad  shoulders  and 
curly  brown  hair  and  beard,  regular  features,  and 
a  rare  smile,  he  was  good  to  look  at. 

When  sober,  he  was  wont  to  take  despondent 
views  of  life ;  to  long,  with  all  a  coward's  longing 
and  none  of  a  man's  daring,  to  end  his  life  and 
his  trials  together. 

When  drunk,  he  was  the  happiest  mortal  alive, 
singing,  dancing,  dashing  off  the  wonderful  pic- 
tures of  his  brain  upon  whatever  material  came  to 
hand.  The  whitewashed  room  of  his  cellar  home 
bore  witness  to  his  skill,  even  to  his  genius. 
Here  was  the  vivid  portrayal  of  a  ship  under  full 
sail,  there  some  tender  symphony  in  white  and 
black  descriptive  of  the  life  of  the  Christ.  A 
cherub  face  smiled  down  from  one  corner ;  in  an- 
other the  pleading  eyes  of  a  spaniel  so  wondrously 
beautiful  they  would  have  challenged  the  admira- 
tion of  artists  high  in  position,  could  they  have 
been  privileged  to  see  them.  These  were  only 
occasional  efforts.  His  hand  fell  listless,  the 
eyes  grew  haggard — then  came  stupor,  a  heavy 
sleep,  and  he  was  ready  for  another  debauch. 

The  life  of  this  poor  wretch  was  a  cross  be- 


4  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

tween  diabolism  and  delirium.  In  his  wildest 
revels  he  imagined  himself  a  man  of  wealth.  All 
his  surroundings  were  princely.  His  wife,  simple 
soul,  endeavored  to  follow  his  drunken  fancies. 
To  the  fine  people  who  came  to  his  fancied  re- 
ceptions, she  was  uniformly  deferential.  She 
praised  their  splendor,  their  rich  clothes,  their 
beauty,  and  plied  them  with  fabulous  refresh- 
ment. 

Indeed,  to  the  inner  eyes  of  this  adoring  woman, 
full  of  the  glamour  of  love,  her  wretched  husband 
always  looked  like  a  prince ;  and  this  life  of  the 
imagination,  rather  than  of  the  senses,  had  become 
a  second  nature  to  her. 

So  long  as  he  did  not  scold  or  beat  her,  she 
said  to  herself  and  the  neighbors,  she  would  en- 
courage his  illusions.  Better  by  far  for  him  to 
come  home  under  the  influence  of  false  surround- 
ings, than  to  stay  all  night  in  a  bar-room  or  on  the 
street.  It  certainly  was  a  stroke  of  genius  that 
could  transform  the  cellar  into  rooms  of  goodly 
proportions,  flaming  with  color,  and  hung  with 
the  masterpieces  of  great  minds,  the  tallow  dip 
into  chandeliers,  the  two  pine  chairs  into  satin 
t$te-&-tltes  and  lounges  of  brocade,  and  make  her 
"  my  lady,"  even  in  a  calico  gown  worn  out  at  the 
elbows  and  frayed  at  the  skirt. 

After  a  hard  day's  work,  it  was  rather  refresh- 
ing than  otherwise  to  sit  down  and,  through  her 
husband's  eyes,  witness  the  transformation  of  the 


REINE  5 

homely  wheaten  bread  into  goodly  loaf  cake. 
Sometimes  she  could  almost  have  declared  that 
the  two  shrivelled  little  chops  and  the  meagre 
show  of  potatoes  were  really  the  finest  of  game, 
the  most  appetizing  of  pastry,  or  that  the  water 
rivalled  the  sweetest  muscatelle,  and  the  tea  in 
the  old  broken  black  teapot  was  actually  cham- 
pagne. So  much  will  habit  do  that  she  some- 
times found  herself  speculating  over  the  wash-tub 
as  to  the  role  her  Sebastian  would  play  if  he  came 
home  the  worse  for  liquor. 

She  had  been  an  innocent  little  girl  when  he 
married  her,  minus  education,  but  gentle,  pretty, 
good  to  the  heart's  core,  hating  poverty,  yet  in 
the  midst  of  poverty  and  its  environments  keep- 
ing herself  pure.  Her  name  was  Reine  D'Urban. 
Out  of  the  shop-window,  where  she  presided  over 
sundry  sales  of  tea  and  coffee  and  a  few  wilted 
vegetables,  she  had  looked  one  day  to  see  the  won- 
derful pave-artist  busy  outlining  a  ship.  Then 
her  curiosity  drew  her  to  the  door.  The  expres- 
sion of  wonder,  surprise,  and  admiration  in  a  face 
that  it  would  have  been  no  dishonor  in  an  artistic 
sense  to  use  as  a  model  for  the  Holy  Mother  her- 
self, caught  his  attention. 

In  that  moment  the  man,  then  master  of  him- 
self, fell  in  love  with  her.  She,  blushing,  palpi- 
tating, and  overcome,  drew  back ;  but  she  carried 
with  her  that  one  admiring  glance  from  eyes  that 
had  in  better  days  been  pronounced  irresistible. 


6  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

Henceforth  her  days  and  nights  were  one  dream 
of  adoration.  The  woman  she  worked  for  —  for 
she  was  an  orphan  —  had  from  that  first  hour  no 
control  over  the  girl  whatever.  Wildly,  madly  in 
love,  she  yielded  to  her  lover's  sophistries,  and 
only  conscious  of  her  passion,  allowed  herself  to 
be  wooed  and  won.  After  their  marriage  they 
lived  in  two  small  rooms,  and  for  a  season  he  was 
too  much  in  love  to  give  way  to  his  craving  for 
drink.  He  even  painted  several  small  pictures  of 
merit  which  served  as  pot-boilers  for  a  month. 
But  alas,  by  degrees  the  monotony  of  their  exist- 
ence palled  upon  him,  and  he  began  gradually  to 
seek  more  congenial  society,  and  to  neglect  his 
wife.  Poor  Reine ! 


THE    BABY 


CHAPTER   II 

THE    BABY 

So  noble  a  master  fallen .' 

ONE  day,  in  the  third  year  of  their  marriage, 
Sebastian  came  home  sober.  A  girl,  whose  splen- 
did but  sombre  eyes  looked .  out  of  a  dark  Italian 
face,  sat  by  Reine's  bed.  Something  like  fear 
crossed  her  face  at  sight  of  him,  and  in  another 
moment  the  girl  had  vanished  through  the  door 
and  up  the  back  stairs. 

Sebastian  stood  in  a  dazed  way,  looking  at  his 
wife.  She,  with  an  angelic  smile,  lifted  the  cover, 
and  lo  !  a  cherub. 

"  That ! "  he  exclaimed  with  a  gesture  almost  of 
fear  ;  "  is  that  ours  — yours  —  mine  ?" 

"  Our  boy,  Sebastian  ; "  and  if  the  child  slum- 
bering there  had  been  a  prince  of  the  blood  royal, 
no  queen  could  have  displayed  more  pride  than 
poor,  overworked  little  Reine.  Now  that  she  was 
paler  than  usual,  how  plainly  the  dimples  showed 
when  she  smiled !  It  really  was  marvellous  that 
the  young  mother  retained  so  much  of  her  beauty. 
Sebastian  was  not  insensible  to  the  lovely  picture 
of  mother  and  babe. 


8  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  I  will  paint  you  both  ! "  he  cried,  holding  up 
his  hands  as  he  moved  a  few  steps  forward.  "  O 
Reine,  my  poor  little  girl !  What  a  gift !  I  swear 
I  will  keep  sober  now.  I  swear  I  will  be  a  good 
father  to  the  boy.  You  shall  not  live  much  longer 
in  this  devilish  hole.  Alas !  what  a  monster  I  am  ! 
What  a  monster  !  " 

"  Come  nearer,  Sebastian,"  said  the  woman  with 
a  smile  ;  "  kiss  me.  You  are  no  monster.  You 
are  my  handsome  husband,  and  you  love  me  and 
the  baby.  The  dear  little  baby !  Everybody  says 
what  a  beauty  it  is,  even  now." 

"  Yes,  a  beauty !  how  could  he  help  it,  when  his 
.mother  is  so  beautiful  ? "  and  the  man  bent  over 
and  kissed  her  with  tears  in  his  eyes.  It  was  a 
strange  sight.  The  comely  frame,  grotesquely  ar- 
rayed, rents  showing  here  and  there,  boots  wrinkled 
and  broken,  the  face  as  the  figure,  yet  noble  in  its 
outlines  ;  the  shabby  cellar-room,  the  beautiful 
mother  and  the  lovely  child,  in  such  a  setting ! 

"  I'll  make  pictures,  such  pictures,  of  you.  I 
feel  the  artist's  instinct  rising  within  me.  Where 
are  my  pencils?" 

He  searched  his  pockets.  The  mother  smiled 
serenely. 

"Perhaps,"  she  said  to  herself,  "the  baby  will 
save  him  !  "  and  prayed  a  little,  and  again  had  in- 
finite faith  in  the  man  she  loved. 


MOLLY 


CHAPTER   III 

MOLLY 
What 's  female  beauty  but  an  air  divine  ? 

"  HARK  !  "  and  she  held  up  her  thin  white  hand. 
"Music  !  Doesn't  it  seem  like  heaven  to  hear  mu- 
sic ?  Open  the  door,  dear.  It  is  coming  this  way. 
I  can  hear  it  better  then." 

The  girl-mother  seemed  like  one  entranced. 
Over  her  sweet  face  a  glory  spread  that  gave  her 
an  expression  almost  celestial. 

On  came  the  little  company  with  bugles  and 
drums,  with  captains  and  lieutenants,  with  flags 
and  banners,  past  heavy  drays  and  lumbering 
wagons,  and  horses  too  tired  to  be  frightened  at 
the  din.  Something  stopped  their  progress  ;  and 
the  women  broke  out  into  a  bright,  cheerful  song, — 

"  We  are  coming,  we  are  coming, 

Don't  you  hear  the  Captain  call, 
The  great  Captain  of  salvation, 
And  the  Father  of  us  all?" 

Pausing  before  the  cellar  door,  a  young  girl, 
with  a  radiant  face,  looked  in.  She  was  richly 
dressed.  Her  beautiful  hazel  eyes  sparkled  with 
pleasure. 


IO  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

Sebastian  had  thrown  the  door  farther  open, 
displaying  a  part  of  the  bed,  and  the  sweet  face 
with  its  tender  eyes  and  exquisite  smile  lighted 
with  the  new  mother-love. 

"  Is  she  sick  ?  What  a  pretty  woman  !  May  I 
come  in  ? "  was  the  girl's  greeting  ;  and  the  broken 
man,  dumfounded,  stood  back  a  little  as  the  girl 
brushed  past  him. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you?"  was  the  first 
question,  as  this  radiant  vision  reached  the  bed- 
side, never  caring  for  her  dainty  garments. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  no.  Sebastian  is  going  to  work, 
now  that  the  baby  has  come ; "  and  as  if  she  had 
known  her  visitor  all  her  life,  she  turned  down  the 
bedclothes,  and  the  baby  woke  at  that  moment, 
opening  large  blue  eyes. 

"  Why,  what  a  lovely  baby  !  How  old  is  it  ?  " 
and  the  girl  took  the  chair  which  Sebastian 
brought  her,  his  eyes  yet  full  of  wonder. 

"  It  is  just  three  weeks  old,"  was  the  reply. 

"  The  little  darling  !    But  he  is  not  half  dressed." 

"  It  was  all  I  had.  The  neighbors  up-stairs  are 
at  work  on  some  little  gowns  for  him.  And  when 
I  am  round  again  he  shall  have  plenty  of  clothes. 
Sebastian  is  going  to  work.  And  the  neighbors 
are  all  so  good  !  You  cannot  think  how  good  they 
are,  for  you  know  they  are  all  poor  like  myself. 
But  Sebastian  is  going  to  work.  He  is  an  artist." 

The  man  of  the  house,  or  rather  the  cellar,  had 
gone  out. 


MOLLY  1 1 

"An  artist!"  the  girl  exclaimed,  and  looked 
about  her.  She  had  not  noticed  the  etchings  on 
the  walls  ;  she  now  observed  them  with  an  inter- 
ested glance. 

"  They  really  are  —  they  really  are  good !  "  she 
exclaimed,  intense  surprise  in  her  voice.  "  I'm 
astonished !  " 

"  Indeed,  he  can  paint  better  than  that,"  the  lit- 
tle woman  said.  "  You  should  see  his  best.  Now 
baby  has  come,  he  is  going  to  make  a  picture  of 
us  two  —  if  he  can  only  get  the  paints.  They  cost 
so  much,  you  know." 

"  Why,  with  such  a  talent,  does  he  live  here  ? " 
the  girl  asked  in  new  astonishment. 

Reine's  eyes  fell.  Her  face  was  all  shadow  for 
a  moment.  She  seemed  casting  about  in  her  mind 
what  to  say,  how  not  to  condemn  him. 

"  You  see  —  I  think  he  will  try  hard,  now  baby 
has  come.  He  is  never  unkind  to  me,  never!  If 
only  they  wouldn't  tempt  him  to  drink! " 

"  Ah,  I  see  !  You  poor  little  thing  !  So  brave  ! 
Open  your  hand.  There,  that  is  all  yours.  Keep 
it,  every  cent  of  it.  If  you  do  spend  it,  spend  it 
on  yourself  and  the  baby.  I  have  been  looking 
for  you  for  some  time.  Ensign  Harry  told  about 
you.  She  lives  in  this  house.  Perhaps  you  know 
her." 

"  I  did  see  her  once,"  said  Reine,  smiling. 
"  Does  she  belong  to  the  —  Army  ?  " 

"  Yes ;   she  is  a  very  lovely  character.     I  am 


12  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

going  to  get  you  an  outfit  for  your  baby.  Listen, 
they  are  playing  again.  You  like  music,  I  see." 

"  Oh,  so  much,  so  much  !  "  said  Reine,  grasping 
the  money  tightly  ;  "  no  band  ever  came  this  way 
before." 

"  The  Salvationists,  they  are  called,"  said  the 
girl.  "They  are  doing  a  noble  work,"  and  her 
eyes  sparkled.  "  I  should  like  to  be  one  with 
them,  to  march  round  with  them,  to  go  among 
the  sick,  the  poor,  and  the  suffering !  I  should 
be  utterly,  entirely  happy  then  ! " 

"  Why  don't  you  ?  "  asked  Reine. 

"  My  father  is  a  rich  man.  All  my  family  would 
disown  me.  You  understand,  don't  you  ?  I  spend 
enough  money  for  one  ball-dress  to  support  you 
for  a  year.  But  even  in  this  poor  place  you  seem 
happy." 

"  I  have  my  husband  and  my  child,"  said  Reine 
in  a  low  voice  full  of  content. 

"  And  I  follow  the  Salvation  Army  sometimes, 
even  against  my  will.  They  brought  me  here,  and 
I  am  glad  I  came.  Tell  your  husband  to  be  a 
good  man  for  the  sake  of  his  wife  and  child.  Tell 
him  to  paint  me  a  picture  —  anything.  I  will  buy 
it.  I  will  give  him  a  good  price,  if  he  will  keep 
sober,  and  do  his  best  work.  Here,  open  your 
other  hand." 

She  pressed  some  bills  between  the  fingers  of 
the  wondering,  half-dazed  woman. 

"  That    is   for  him  —  for  paints   and   oils   and 


MOLLY  13 

canvas,  don't  you  see  ?  Don't  give  it  to  him,  but 
send  out  and  buy  what  he  needs.  I  will  give  you 
a  list.  I  know  something  of  colors.  Sometimes 
I  do  a  little  work  of  that  kind  myself." 

She  wrote  a  list  on  one  of  her  dainty  cards. 

"  Can  you  send  for  them  ? "  she  asked. 

"Oh,  yes;  Nanny  will  go — Nan  Gartia.  She 
is  a  good  girl.  She  lives  alone  with  her  father, 
almost  at  the  top  of  the  house.  He  is  an  old 
musician,  dying  of  consumption.  When  he  is 
gone  Nan  will  be  quite  alone.  They  have  seen 
better  days.  Poor  Nan!  " 

"  Somebody  I  can  help,  perhaps,"  said  the 
beautiful  girl. 

"  Indeed,  they  are  very  poor  and  very  good," 
said  Reine ;  then  looking  at  her  visitor  with  ten- 
der eyes  softened  by  tears,  she  murmured,  "It 
seems  to  me  you  are  an  angel !  " 

"  Not  quite,"  was  the  answer,  with  a  quick  little 
laugh ;  "  but  I  am  one  of  those  unfortunates  who 
long  for  a  mission.  I  don't  quite  believe  that  my 
life  ought  to  be  wasted  on  vanities  and  worldly 
pomps,  to  say  nothing  of  the  flesh  and  the  devil. 
People  laugh  at  me  and  my  longings  —  call  them 
whims  and  fancies.  But  I  must  go.  Tell  your 
husband  about  my  order  for  a  picture  after  you 
have  bought  the  paints,  remember,  not  before." 

The  flash  of  rich  garments,  the  aroma  of  a 
dainty  perfume,  the  remembrance  of  wonderful 
words  and  gifts,  and  Reine  was  alone. 


14  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  I  wonder  if  she  will  come  again ! "  she  mur- 
mured. Then  she  looked  at  the  money  closely 
locked  in  her  hands,  counted  it.  There  were  fif- 
teen dollars  in  all;  ten  in  her  left  hand  —  that  was 
for  her,  and  five  in  her  right  hand — that  was  for 
Sebastian. 

"The  blessed,  blessed  woman!"  she  cried, 
catching  her  breath  with  a  quick  sob.  "  Oh  !  Se- 
bastian must  do  better  now  !  How  often  have  I 
prayed  for  it !  How  often,  dear  God  !  " 

"  What !  has  she  gone  ? "  Sebastian  was  in  the 
room.  "  I  can't  think  what  made  her  come  here." 
A  momentary  gleam  lighted  his  face.  He  passed 
his  hand  through  his  shining  hair  that  clustered 
in  thick  curls  over  a  comely  forehead. 

The  motion  was  an  indication  of  newly  stirred 
vanity.  The  moment  of  self-exaltation  passed, 
however. 

"  What  have  we  in  the  house  to  eat,  my  little 
one  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling  down  at  the  pretty  face. 

"The  Smiths  sent  down  some  tripe,  white  as 
milk,  and  the  poor  Campdowns  brought  me  in  a 
chicken.  Think  of  that,  and  they  so  poor !  Open 
the  little  closet  there,  you  will  see  that  they  have 
not  forgotten  us." 

He  opened  it.  A  row  of  shining  vegetables 
greeted  his  vision,  above  them  a  shelf  full  of 
meats,  some  of  them  cooked.  Sebastian  looked 
with  greedy  eyes. 

"I'm  very  hungry,"  he  said;  "suppose  I  eat  a 
little." 


MOLLY  1 5 

"Why,  of  course;  they  thought  of  you!  Mrs. 
Ryder  is  coming  down  with  my  dinner.  She  is 
poor,  you  know,  and  lame  too.  Eat  what  you 
want,  only  I'm  afraid  you  can't  cook  the  potatoes 

—  could  you  ? " 

"You've  only  to  put  them  in  water,"  he  said. 

"  It  ought  to  be  hot.  There's  a  little  oil  left. 
Fill  up  the  stove,  and  heat  the  water.  I'll  tell  you 
what  to  do ;  and  then  you  can  sit  right  here,  where 
baby  and  I  can  see  you,  and  eat.  Afterwards 

—  well,  wait."     She  smiled  to  herself. 

The  miserably  battered  little  oil-stove  was  soon 
lighted,  and  the  potatoes  under  way.  Presently 
Mrs.  Ryder,  the  little  lame  tailoress,  came  down, 
limping  at  every  step.  She  was  almost  as  thin  as 
a  shadow,  and  her  face  was  white  with  an  un- 
healthy pallor.  In  her  hand  she  carried  a  steam- 
ing bowl,  and  a  good-sized  silver  spoon,  a  relic  of 
better  days. 

"  You  look  tired,"  said  Reine.  Sebastian  went 
on  with  his  cooking. 

"  So  would  you,  if  you  had  been  kept  awake  till 
morning.  The  Flynns  had  a  party  last  night ;  and 
what  with  the  dancing  and  the  tipsy  freaks  they 
cut,  I'm  nearly  dead.  Sometimes  I  think  the 
cellar  is  the  best  place  in  a  house  like  this  —  the 
cellar  or  the  garret,  where  Nan  and  her  father 
live.  Now  drink  this,  honey,  it  will  do  you  good. 
I  made  it  after  the  receipt  of  an  old  grand-aunt 
of  mine.  I  never  thought  I'd  come  down  to  this 


1 6  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

when  she  was  alive.  Let  me  see  that  blessed 
baby  again.  Well,  if  I  ever  did  ! "  she  cried  in 
rapturous  accents  as  the  wee  face  was  uncovered. 
"  I  never  did  see  a  young  thing  like  that  so  pretty  ! 
Mr.  Sebastian,  you  ought  to  behave,  indeed  you 
ought,  now  you've  got  such  a  beautiful  child  !  " 
she  added  in  a  shriller  voice ;  for  poor  Mrs.  Ryder 
had  no  mercy  on  sinners,  and  tact  was  a  quality 
that  had  never  graced  her  cold,  stern  nature. 

In  vain  poor  Reine  pulled  at  her  gown  till  she 
almost  broke  the  scant  gathers. 

"  Go  to  Hades  ! "  muttered  the  artist  in  a  voice 
like  an  organ  tone  with  the  mellowness  left  out ; 
but  he  never  turned  round.  The  woman  likely 
did  not  hear ;  for  she  was  busy  now  bolstering  up 
Reine  with  the  one  pillow,  behind  which  she  put  a 
bundle  of  old  clothes.  Then  she  limped  out,  tell- 
ing Reine  not  to  worry,  she  would  be  back  by  and 
by. 

"Thundering  busybodies!"  muttered  Sebas- 
tian when  she  had  gone. 

"They're  very  good  to  me,"  sighed  Reine,  to 
whom  the  white  decoction  was  delicious. 

"  Sure  enough,  to  you.  I'm  only  a  vagabond," 
he  said  dejectedly. 

"  Sebastian,  remember  the  baby !  "  said  Reine 
in  awful  tones.  "You're  no  longer  a  vagabond, 
since  little  Sebastian  has  come,"  and  her  voice 
grew  musical. 

"  God  forgive  me !  "  said  Sebastian,  as  if  smitten 


MOLLY  I/ 

with  a  painful  blow.  "  It  will  take  me  some  time 
to  get  used  to  Sebastian  the  Second,"  he  added 
musingly ;  "  so  don't  you  mind  anything  I  say. 
That  rich  girl  —  for  I  know  she  is  rich  —  ought 
to  have  left  you  some  money." 

"  She  did,"  said  Reine  in  a  faint  voice,  after 
struggling  for  some  time  to  keep  her  secret;  "a 
—  a  dollar!" 

"  Bless  her  stingy  soul !  "  was  the  response.  "I 
was  just  thinking  how  handily  a  dollar  would  come 
in." 

"  You  shall  have  it,"  Reine  said  cheerfully  — 
"every  cent  of  it.  But  I  forgot  to  tell  you  the 
good  news.  She  wants  you  to  paint  her  a  picture. 
She  will  buy  it  at  a  good  price." 

"  Ah  !  that  sounds  more  like  it.  I  will  paint 
you  and  the  little  fellow  as  soon  as  he  gets  God's 
light  in  his  eyes.  At  present  the  face  is  a  blank, 
pretty  as  it  is.  Ah  !  the  dollar  will  bring  me  a  few 
colors,  not  many,  but  enough  to  begin  on."  He 
was  eating  a  chop  now,  warmed  by  the  stove :  the 
potatoes  were  mealy.  He  ate  from  a  large  plate 
on  his  knees,  and  seemed  to  know  no  want  of  a 
table,  so  blunted  were  his  sensibilities  by  drink. 
And  yet  once  he  had  been  fastidious. 

"  There,  I  am  through.  Now,  give  me  my  dol- 
lar." He  stooped  and  kissed  her. 

That  night  he  came  home,  as  the  saying  is, 
drunk  as  a  lord. 


1 8  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   IV 

AN   ENTERTAINMENT 
The  mind  doth  shape  itself  to  its  own  "wants. 

REINE  had  gone  off  into  a  quiet  sleep.  One  of 
the  neighbors  was  sitting  by  her,  and  just  on  the 
point  of  leaving  for  the  night,  when  the  door 
opened,  and  Sebastian  came  stumbling  down  the 
few  steps  that  intervened  between  the  floor  and 
the  door. 

"Countess  de  Lorn,"  he  announced  gravely  — 
he  never  hiccoughed  ;  "  bring  a  seat  for  the  coun- 
tess. My  dear  lady,  I  beg  you  will  be  seated.  It 
happens  that  my  wife,  the  princess,  is  ill.  Madam, 
you  are  dismissed,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  the  as- 
tonished, self-constituted  nurse.  "  You  see,  my 
lady,  my  wife  has  presented  me  with  an  heir.  The 
young  prince  is  sleeping.  Allow  me." 

He  turned  down  the  coarse  but  clean  coverlet, 
while  the  occupant  of  No.  27  up-stairs  glided  from 
the  room. 

Reine  always  wakened  at  the  slightest  noise, 
and  now  his  movement  set  her  eyes  wide  open. 
She  met  his  flushed  face,  saw  thereon  the  unmis- 
takable seal  of  drunkenness. 


AN    ENTERTAINMENT  IQ 

"  O  Sebastian,  how  could  you  ! "  she  said. 

"  My  darling  of  darlings,  I  have  brought  Coun- 
tess de  Lorn  to  see  you,"  he  said  with  drunken 
gravity;  "you  must  make  her  welcome." 

"  The  Countess  de  Lorn  is  welcome,"  said  sub- 
missive Reine,  trying  to  keep  a  sob  out  of  her 
voice. 

"And  she  wishes  to  see  the  young  prince." 

"  The  young  prince  is  asleep,  my  dear ;  but  the 
countess  can  look  at  him,"  said  Reine. 

"  Is  he  not  a  lovely  child,  Countess  ?  And  now, 
let  me  show  you  some  new  pictures  ; "  and  he  po- 
litely ushered  his  unseen  guest  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  kitchen,  where  Sebastian  seated  his 
visionary  company  on  a  chair  of  his  erratic  ima- 
gination, a  chair  of  state,  and  proceeded  to  point 
out  the  beauties  of  his  latest  production  in  oils. 

"Those  high  tints,  you  observe,  red  almost  as 
guinea  gold,  contrast  well  with  the  milky  tones  of 
the  horizon.  And  the  two  persons  seated  under 
the  magnolia  are  full  of  spiritual  vivacity.  Do 
you  like  the  pose  of  the  female  figure  ?  It  accen- 
tuates the  story  —  for  you  see  the  canvas  does  tell 
a  story.  Then  in  this  wreck,  I  hope  you  appre- 
ciate the  work  of  the  poor  artist.  The  storm  is 
over,  and  the  moon  shines  dimly  through  the 
clouds.  Yonder  poor  fellow,  on  some  floating 
wood,  strains  his  eyes  over  the  dusky  distance. 
Will  he  be  saved  ?  I  think  that  would  be  a  good 
title  for  the  picture.  Thanks  !  I  am  delighted 


2O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

that  you  like  it ; "  and  so  he  went  on  about  mist- 
wreathes  and  melodious  wave-sounds,  and  much 
more  of  the  jargon  that  painters  affect. 

Meantime  poor  Reine  underwent  torture.  The 
coming  of  the  baby  with  its  wealth  of  love  meant 
nothing  then  for  Sebastian's  salvation.  She  had 
hoped  so  much  from  it,  and  now  the  last  link  was 
broken.  She  must  rise  to  joyless  labor,  and  stand 
over  the  wash-tub  and  the  ironing-board  early  and 
late, — yes,  earlier  and  later,  —  for  there  was  one 
more  mouth  to  feed.  Carefully  she  felt  for  her 
money  under  the  pillow,  and  hid  it  between  the 
two  pitifully  hard  straw  beds,  while  her  husband 
was  searching  for  something  to  eat,  of  which, 
thanks  to  the  neighbors,  there  was  enough. 

The  banquet  was  nearly  ready ;  and  in  deference 
to  the  illness  of  the  princess,  the  table  was  drawn 
up  to  the  side  of  the  bed.  Languid  and  tearful, 
Reine  lay  there  listening  to  the  conversation 
which  grew  more  and  more  maudlin,  till  the  man, 
overcome  with  fatigue,  threw  himself  along  the 
bed,  and  was  soon  fast  asleep. 

Just  then  came  the  sound  of  music,  the  same 
she  had  heard  in  the  afternoon,  accompanied  now 
by  the  singing  of  men,  women,  and  children.  She 
was  very  thirsty ;  but  of  course  she  could  not  help 
herself  to  water,  and  as  there  was  a  little  weak 
tea  in  the  cup  left  by  her  husband,  she  drank  it 
off,  but  it  only  intensified  her  wakeful  mood. 

The  baby  stirred,  and  all  Reine's  warm  heart 


v^fO 


„ 
AN    ENTERTAINMENT  21 

responded.  How  strange  that  she  had  something 
living  to  talk  to  !  That  of  itself  was  a  pleasure 
which  she  had  never  anticipated.  Up  to  her  lips 
came  tender  words,  and  for  a  few  fleeting  moments 
no  happier  woman  could  be  found  than  poor  little 
Reine.  Deep  indeed  was  her  faith,  true  and  inno- 
cent her  heart,  that  she  could  look  at  the  sorrowful 
burden  of  leaden  years  before  her  and  still  smile, 
as  she  felt  the  stir  of  that  small  bundle  on  her 
arm.  The  garden  of  her  heart  was  all  abloom, 
notwithstanding  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  well- 
nigh  lost  man  at  her  side. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  strange,  fumbling  noise 
at  the  back  door,  —  a  sound  as  of  some  one  sobbing 
or  groaning  in  deep  trouble.  The  door  opened, 
—  Sebastian  had  forgotten  to  fasten  it,  —  and  in 
rushed  Nanny  Gartia,  the  tears  raining  down  her 
white  cheeks. 

"  I  came  down  here  —  I  ran  all  alone  in  the 
dark,"  sobbed  the  girl,  standing  beside  the  bed. 

Reine  wondered  why  her  eyes  had  not  lighted 
her,  they  were  so  large  and  bright,  despite  the 
terror  in  them. 

"  What's  the  matter,  child  ?  "  asked  Reine,  put- 
ting her  babe  down  carefully  beside  her. 

"  O  Mrs.  Sebastian,"  —  they  all  called  Reine 
Mrs.  Sebastian,  —  "  my  —  my  father  !  "  and  the 
cry  was  almost  a  shriek. 

"  Is  he  worse,  dear  ?  " 

"  He  is  dead !"  wailed  the  child,  and  began  sob- 


22  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

bing  again.  "  Mrs.  Clarke  asked  me  to  come  in 
there,  but  I  couldn't.  There's  been  a  quarrel 
there.  I  couldn't  stay  in  our  room  either,  and 
so  I  felt  my  way  to  you.  Let  me  stay  with  you 
and  the  baby." 

"  To  be  sure,  you  poor  child.  I'm  so  sorry  ! 
You  are  all  alone  now.  Poor  Nan  !  " 

"I  —  I  thought  he  was  better,"  the  girl  went  on, 
kneeling  down  by  the  bed,  and  hiding  her  stream- 
ing eyes  in  the  pillow.  "  The  music  came  by  — 
did  you  hear  it?  —  the  Salvation  band.  I  went 
to  the  window  to  look  out  and  listen.  Father 
called  me.  He  acted  so  strange !  His  eyes  were 
staring;  and  he  was  sitting  right  up  in  bed  as 
strong  as  could  be,  and  I've  had  to  lift  him  just 
like  a  child  for  days.  '  Give  me  King  Solomon,' 
says  he  —  King  Solomon  is  the  fiddle.  It  was 
locked  away  in  its  case,  and  it  took  some  time 
to  get  at  it.  I  ran  with  it  to  the  bed,  and  gave 
it  to  father.  I'm  sure  he  didn't  know  where  he 
was ;  for  he  called  out  in  a  loud  voice,  'Attention, 
Orchestra  ! '  and  began  to  beat  time.  Then  he 
drew  the  bow,  and,  oh  my  soul !  the  fiddle  gave 
such  a  wail  that  it  frightened  me,  and  the  room 
seemed  like  a  great  yawning  cave.  Then  he 
cried  out  again,  '  Attention,  Trombone  ! '  and  fell 
back  on  the  bed,  the  fiddle  and  bow  still  in  his 
hands.  I  knew  he  was  dead,  and  all  I  could  do 
was  to  scream.  They  were  quarrelling  in  the  next 
room ;  but  it  all  stopped,  and  the  Clarkes  came 


AN    ENTERTAINMENT  23 

running  in.  I  couldn't  stay  there  —  I  couldn't. 
I  wish  I  was  dead  too.  I  wish  —  I  bitterly  wish 
I  could  'a'  gone  with  father.  There's  nobody  left 
to  love  me  or  to  care  for." 

"  We'll  all  be  good  to  you,  Nanny,"  Reine  said, 
patting  the  dark  head. 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  you're  all  as  poor  as  can 
be.  What  can  poor  folks  do  but  surfer  ?  Don't 
I  know  ?  He  wanted  a  little  wine,  just  a  little 
swallow ;  and  I  hadn't  no  money  to  buy  it  with. 
We  were  paupers,  you  know ;  and  paupers  don't 
deserve  to  live,  do  they  ?  Poor  people  ought  to 
die,  and  to  go  to  —  anywhere,  if  they  don't  hunger 
and  thirst  there.  Every  bit  of  my  money  is  gone, 
and  for  two  days  I  haven't  been  able  to  go  on 
the  streets  with  King  Solomon.  Perhaps,"  and 
there  came  a  heavy,  rasping  sob,  "perhaps  he  died 
of  starvation,  because  he  couldn't  get  the  right 
things  to  eat." 

"  Don't,  dear,  don't  worry.  Think  now  that  he 
is  out  of  his  poverty,  and  up  in  heaven.  He  was 
a  good  old  man,  and  worked  while  he  could,  and 
didn't  give  way  to  drink.  Perhaps  you'd  ought  to 
be  thankful." 

"  I  ain't  thankful  to  anybody,"  said  the  girl, 
crying  heavily ;  "  I  don't  know  as  I  wanted  him 
to  live  and  suffer,  but  now  I've  got  to  live  and 
suffer  all  alone.  Think  of  it ! "  and  she  raised  her 
tear-drenched  eyes,  "  only  a  young  girl,  and  poor 
and  all  alone  !  " 


24  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  You  have  me,  and  some  good  friends  in  the 
house,  Nan,"  Reine  ventured  helplessly,  feeling 
that  she  ought  to  keep  silence  in  this  dark  hour. 

"  You  !  "  said  the  girl  with  vehemence,  "  you  ! 
Haven't  you  got  your  own  troubles  to  bear?  and 
—  that  —  brute  —  ugh  !  " 

"  Now,  Nan,  don't  you  go  to  call  my  husband 
names  !  "  said  Reine,  her  soft  musical  voice  grow- 
ing harsh.  "I'm  —  satisfied  —  with — baby,"  she 
faltered. 

"  Yes,  you're  satisfied  —  satisfied  to  work  your 
hands  off  for  him  —  well,  I  won't  say  another 
word.  But  oh,  you  sweet,  kind  soul  !  if  only  you 
was  rich,  and  I  could  tend  the  baby  !  There  isn't 
a  cent  in  the  house,  not  a  red  cent.  I  can  make  a 
quarter  some  days,  but  I  can't  go  out  now  —  not 
now.  I'd  have  to  starve  first." 

"  See  here,  Nan,  I've  got  some  money.  Sh  " 
as  the  drunken  man  stirred.  "  Here's  a  dollar 
bill,  and  here's  another  "  —  she  drew  them  slowly 
from  her  little  hoard,  and  placed  them  in  the  girl's 
hand;  "and,  Nan,  every  blessed  soul  in  Paradise 
Flats  '11  be  good  to  you,  till  such  time  as  you  get 
out  to  business  again.  Don't  let  your  fiddle  go, 
whatever  you  do,  be  sure  !  Bring  it  down  here 
to-morrow,  and  put  it  under  the  bed.  They'll  be 
wanting  to  take  that  for  the  rent  or  something. 
Stay  —  say  I  bought  it.  I  have  !  there's  the 
money  !  But  I  don't  want  it.  I'll  give  it  right 
back  to  you  as  soon  as  you  ask  for  it.  You've 


AN    ENTERTAINMENT  2$ 

your  living  to  git  by  music ;  and  some  day  you 
may  play  with  a  big  orchestry  in  front,  such  as 
your  father  used  to  lead.  He's  where  he  can  help 
you  now,  mebby.  Don't  cry  any  more,  dear." 

"  You're  so  good  !  "  sobbed  Nan,  placing  the 
money  in  the  ragged  waist  of  her  calico  dress. 
"  I  wish  I  could  live  with  you  and  the  baby  for- 
ever. If  it  wasn't  for  him,"  and  a  look  of  supreme 
disgust  crossed  her  face,  "  I  would.  I'd  bring 
that  baby  up" — then  a  wave  of  troubled  recol- 
lection surging  deep  from  the  heart,  she  began  to 
cry  again  for  her  father. 

"  There's  been  a  nice  visitor  here  to-day,"  said 
Reine  ;  "she  promised  to  come  again  to-morrow. 
She's  rich  and  good.  The  goodness  is  written  on 
her  face  —  she'll  help  you." 


26  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   V 

A   SALVATION    BAND 
/  cannot  fashion  soul  or  speech. 

TRAMP,  tramp,  tramp  ! 

The  music  sounded  now,  undisturbed  by  loaded 
vans  and  carts  and  carriages.  The  Army  had, 
what  it  seldom  could  command,  the  right  of  way, 
for  it  was  ten  o'clock  at  night. 

The  men  were  stalwart  fellows,  and  marched 
like  soldiers.  The  women  kept  up  with  them  un- 
falteringly. Among  the  latter  were  some  pretty, 
some  pathetic,  faces.  There  were  man-captains 
and  woman-captains.  "  Harry  "  Vale,  as  she  was 
dubbed,  an  English  girl,  was  both  young  and 
handsome.  It  was  worth  looking  for  to  catch 
the  flash  of  her  blue  eyes  under  her  poke  bonnet. 
Even  when  egg-shells  and  rotten  potatoes  were 
thrown  right  and  left  among  the  members,  Ensign 
Harry  never  flinched  ;  and  her  bravery  subdued 
the  roughs,  and  often  cleared  the  way  for  action. 

They  had  held  a  successful  meeting  that  night, 
and  added  several  recruits,  who,  a  little  shame- 
faced, but  upheld  by  a  dogged  resolution,  marched 
at  the  end  of  the  procession. 


A    SALVATION    BAND  2/ 

The  streets  were  pretty  well  emptied,  but  a  few 
men  and  women  stopped  as  they  went  by  to  laugh 
at  and  criticise  the  Army  and  its  banners.  They 
themselves  stood  still  for  two  or  three  moments 
by  Ensign  Harry's  request,  before  one  of  the 
handsomest  houses  in  the  city,  the  residence  of 
a  rich  banker.  Did  the  bright-eyed  little  ensign 
expect  the  banker  or  his  daughter  to  give  them 
a  welcome  or  a  hearing  ? 

The  banker  sat  in  his  armchair  of  solid  mahog- 
any. He  was  a  solid  man.  Opposite  him  sat  a 
handsome  young  fellow,  whose  beauty  was  the 
theme  of  all  the  marriageable  belles  of  the  great 
city.  The  splendid  library  was  a  poem  in  books, 
works  of  art,  and  bric-a-brac.  It  was  the  dream  of 
a  rich  man  moulded  into  shape,  and  its  decora- 
tions were  as  perfect  as  money  could  make  them. 

The  music  sounded  even  through  the  plate- 
glass  and  the  heavy  plush  porttires. 

"  Damn  them  ! "  and  the  banker  spoke  with 
unusual  bitterness. 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  the  young  man. 

"  Those  Salvationists.  They're  leading  away 
my  Molly." 

"  I  wish  I  might  enjoy  the  same  privilege,"  was 
the  response. 

"  I  wish  you  may.  I  like  you,  Stacey.  Your 
father  was  an  old  chum  of  mine,  and  I  never  knew 
him  to  do  a  dishonorable  act.  He  was  the  soul 
of  honor.  Upon  my  word,  Stacey,  I  wish  I  knew 


28  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

how  to  help  you,  but,  O  Lord  !  that  girl  of  mine  ! 
I  think  her  mother  had  a  pious  paroxysm  before 
Molly  came.  She  was  afraid  she  was  going  to 
die  — as  she  did,  poor  soul !  and  took  up  with  all 
the  new  religious  fads  and  isms.  And  she  made 
me  promise  —  well  —  made — I'd  have  promised 
anything,  you  know,  at  such  a  time  as  that  —  that 
I'd  never  interfere  in  the  least  with  the  girl's 
religious  notions,  if  she  lived  to  grow  up.  Well, 
she  did  live,  Heaven  help  her  !  and  such  a  time  as 
I  have  had  !  such  a  race  as  she  has  led  me  !  First 
it  was  Methodism,  then  Congregationalism,  then 
she  slid  easily  into  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  now, 
the  devil  take  the  luck,  she's  crazy  over  the  Sal- 
vation Army  !  wants  to  wear  a  badge,  and  all  that. 
Don't  you  see,  my  hands  are  tied?  Why,  she 
knows  more  about  the  slums  than  any  blank  dis- 
trict visitor  in  our  parish.  I  allow  her  a  liberal 
sum,  and  I'll  be  dog-goned  if  she  don't  come  for 
more  before  the  month  is  half  over ! " 

Young  Stacey  listened,  a  half-smile  on  his 
handsome,  sensitive  face.  It  was  hardly  a  wonder 
that  Molly  Stanley  pronounced  him  a  boy,  her 
upper  lip  curling,  and  her  beautiful  face  full  of 
a  haughty  disdain  ;  for  he  was  unusually  youthful 
looking  for  a  man  of  twenty-six. 

"  Your  daughter  is  a  very  lovely  young  woman," 
he  said,  "  whatever  her  notions  of  outside  things 
may  be ;  and  fads  are  inevitable  and  excusable  in 
so  beautiful  a  girl." 


A    SALVATION    BAND  2Q 

"  If  she  could  only  settle  down  in  a  home  of 
her  own  !  "  said  banker  Stanley  with  something 
like  a  sigh,  as  he  rose  and  took  down  from  its  case 
a  priceless  meerschaum,  "  there  might  be  some 
hope  for  her.  Damn  those  Salvationists !  Why 
don't  they  leave  ?  parading  themselves  like  a  pack 
of  fools  through  the  best  streets  of  the  city." 

"  Oh,  they'll  go  out.  Such  things  don't  last  long, 
you  know,"  said  Stacey,  helping  himself  to  a  cigar 
from  a  charming  filagree  silver  tray.  "  Some 
people  take  them  up,  but  they're  by  no  means  the 
best,  you  know.  The  church  don't  countenance 
them  much,  anyway." 

"  No  ;  but  they  can  do  a  good  deal  of  mischief 
while  they  stay,  that's  the  trouble.  I  wonder  if 
they  are  in  any  communication  with  my  Molly  ?  " 
and  he  walked  uneasily  towards  the  heavily  cur- 
tained window,  then  back  irresolutely,  then  sat 
down,  muttering  between  his  teeth,  "Thank  God, 
they're  gone." 

"  Miss  Stanley  would  hardly  countenance  that," 
said  the  young  man. 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  Molly.  She's  the  very 
devil  —  that  sounds  harsh,  but  she  is  the  very 
devil  for  obstinacy  !  Let  me  tell  you,  the  man 
who  marries  her  will  have  his  hands  full,"  he 
added,  conscious  of  the  roughness  of  speech  for 
which  he  was  noted. 

"  I  wish  I  might  have  the  chance  to  try  the 
experiment,"  said  Stacey,  smiling  complacently. 


3<D  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  the  young  fellow  had  great 
faith  in  himself.  He  was  a  man  of  leisure,  with 
a  large  bank  account ;  of  good  family,  priding  him- 
self somewhat  on  his  descent,  and  knowing  little 
or  nothing  of  the  world  outside  of  the  circle  in 
which  he  had  been  born. 

Reared  in  an  atmosphere  of  luxury,  a  member 
of  the  Episcopal  Church,  having  passed  through 
all  the  gradations  from  chorister  to  lay-reader, 
for  his  ambition  led  him  to  consider  it  a  pos- 
sibility that  he  could  preach  as  good  a  sermon 
as  many  a  graybeard,  there  was  not  in  all  the 
world,  perhaps,  a  richer,  better-principled,  or  more 
self-satisfied  young  prig.  But  there  was  some- 
thing more  in  him  than  the  qualities  that  made 
him  a  man  of  the  world  and  a  moralist,  only  he 
had  not  found  it  out  yet.  Missing  his  profession, 
which  he  gave  up  at  the  last  moment,  saying  that 
he  had  not  the  conscience  to  go  into  the  pulpit  as 
a  fraud,  for  his  heart  was  not  in  it,  he  changed 
from  the  church  to  medicine ;  but  lived  the  life  of 
a  man  of  leisure,  attended  his  club  with  the  same 
regularity  that  he  went  to  service,  and  found  life 
very  agreeable,  till  he  met  Molly  Stanley.  Then 
it  became  more  than  rose-colored  —  it  took  on  the 
hues  of  Paradise. 

All  his  life  long,  at  the  regular  service,  he  had 
sat  in  the  same  square  pew  on  the  side  aisle,  fa- 
cing the  body  of  the  church.  One  Sunday  a  slen- 
der maiden,  exquisitely  gowned,  and  moving  with 


A    SALVATION    BAND  3! 

an  air  and  manner  that  proclaimed  her  to  the 
manor  born,  entered  a  pew  within  the  ken  of  his 
vision,  and  at  once  entranced  his  senses.  It  was 
not  long  before  he  learned  who  she  was.  Every- 
body was  talking  of  the  recent  addition.  His 
cousin  knew  her  intimately.  "  Didn't  he  think 
she  was  lovely,  and  all  that  ?  "  the  cousin  coquet- 
tishly  asked.  Why,  she  was  old  Stanley's  daugh- 
ter —  Stanley  the  banker,  rich  as  Croesus  —  but 
a  very  unworldly  girl  in  spite  of  her  irreligious 
training ;  for  everybody  knew  that  banker  Stanley 
was  one  of  the  millionaires  of  the  city. 

Not  long  afterwards  Russell  Stacey  was  intro- 
duced, and  his  handsome  face  and  attractive  man- 
ners did  make  some  impression  on  the  young  girl. 
But  she,  carried  away  with  the  hope  of  the  world's 
reformation,  in  which  she  was  to  take  no  insignifi- 
cant part,  cared  for  him  only  as  a  friend,-  and 
discouraged  his  suit. 

Not  so  the  banker.  Finding  that  the  young 
man  was  the  son  of  an  old  friend,  that  his  char- 
acter was  unblemished  and  his  standing  secure, 
he  was  almost  eager  in  his  desire  to  encourage 
him  as  Molly's  suitor. 


32  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   VI 

A    CONFIDENTIAL    TALK 
The  meaning  of  song  goes  deep. 

ENSIGN  HARRY  looked  in  vain  for  some  sign  of 
recognition  from  Molly  Stanley,  as  the  small  body 
of  Salvationists  labored  at  the  wavering  strains 
of  "The  Sweet  By  and  By."  They  were  all  tired 
and  longing  for  their  beds,  but  they  were  trained 
to  obey  orders. 

"  Perhaps  we'd  better  go  on,"  said  Harry  the 
ensign,  lifting  her  poke  bonnet  to  get  a  breath 
of  fresh  air,  and  disclosing  a  sweet  face  and  tired 
blue  eyes.  Thereupon  the  captain  gave  orders, 
and  the  company  went  marching  along,  the  cornets 
getting  fainter  and  fainter. 

Meantime  Molly  had  gone  to  her  room  with  a 
cousin  who  was  visiting  her,  one  of  the  prettiest 
and  most  fashionable  girls  in  the  city.  The  two 
had  left  young  Stacey  after  their  nine  o'clock  tea, 
to  talk  over  matters  pertaining  to  some  fancy 
charitable  fair  in  which  they  were  interested. 

"  I  don't  know  but  I'd  as  lief  have  stayed  down- 
stairs longer,"  Lucy  Garland  said,  throwing  her- 
self into  a  big  be-ruffled,  be-pillowed  chair  in  white 


A    CONFIDENTIAL    TALK  33 

and  gold  ;  "  Russel  Stacey  is  singularly  handsome. 
Oh,  how  handsome!  What  in  the  world  makes 
you  so  indifferent  to  him  ?  I'd  fly  with  such  a 
lover  to  the  end  of  the  world." 

"  I  wish  you  would  take  him  off  my  hands, 
then,"  Molly  responded,  taking  possession  of 
another  big  chair,  in  the  downy  depths  of  which 
her  pretty  figure  was  almost  concealed. 

"Oh  !  he  wouldn't  think  of  me  when  you  were 
by.  Why,  the  man  idolizes  you,  Molly.  The  way 
he  looks  at  you  !  Why,  it  makes  me  positively 
wild.  No  one  ever  worshipped  me  as  he  does  you 
— and  I'm  not  bad  looking,  either,"  she  added 
complacently,  turning  her  head  towards  a  cheval 
mirror.  "  Why  don't  you  like  him,  Molly  ?" 

"  Well,  because  I  don't,  I  suppose,"  Molly  an- 
swered indolently. 

"  I'm  sure  there  isn't  a  pair  of  eyes  like  his,  I 
mean  exactly  like,  in  the  world." 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  color  they  are,"  said 
Molly. 

"  One  can  hardly  forgive  him  for  not  going  on 
with  his  profession,"  Lucy  rattled  on.  "  Fancy 
him  in  a  gown  with  fifty  dollars  worth  of  embroi- 
dery worked  on  it,  and  a  stole,  made  by  the  young 
ladies  of  the  church.  Oh,  dear  !  what  a  handsome 
clergyman  he  would  have  made ;  and  I'll  bet "  — 
beauty  in  private  is  not  always  choice  of  its  lan- 
guage — "  then  you  would  have  married  him.  Now 
he's  a  horrid  doctor  !  " 


34  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  No ;  not  if  he  had  been  a  clergyman  twice 
over,"  was  the  decided  reply.  "  I  don't  intend  to 
marry.  You  know  that." 

"Fiddlesticks!  I'm  two  years  older  than  you 
are.  When  I  was  eighteen  I  determined  never, 
never,  NEVER  to  marry.  I  wouldn't  turn  my  back 
on  a  good  chance  now,  I  promise  you." 

"  You  have  plenty  of  lovers,"  said  Molly  laconi- 
cally. 

"No;  not  good  ones — good  looks,  good  manners, 
and  a  good  fortune  !  I  could  have  Maurice  Meeks, 
I  suppose,  a  widower,  a  fortune,  and  with  three 
children  for  whom  he  wants  a  mother ;  or  young 
Briggs,  with  plenty  of  money  and  no  brains ;  or 
Colonel  Dewey,  with  a  chin  that  stands  out  like 
a  fort,  and  only  wants  a  flag  with  the  motto :  '  No 
surrender'  upon  it.  Oh,  yes,  there  are  plenty  of 
that  kind,  but  not  one  like  your  adorer.  His  very 
name  is  musical." 

Molly  laughed,  and  then  relapsed  into  thought. 

"  I  say,  Molly,  why  didn't  you  go  into  a  sister- 
hood ?  I  never  saw  a  girl  with  your  advantages 
so  utterly  indifferent  to  all  that  the  world  can  give. 
If  my  father  was  a  banker,  —  which  he  never  will 
be  —  only  a  cashier  in  Uncle  Stanley's  bank,  —  and 
I  had  the  money  that  passes  through  your  hands, 
I  should  be  perfectly  happy.  I'd  ask  no  more  of 
this  world  —  not  even  a  husband  ;  "  and  Lucy  Gar- 
land sank  back  with  closed  eyes  and  folded  hands, 
her  blond  curls  melting  into  the  golden  shade  of 


A    CONFIDENTIAL    TALK  35 

the  cretonne  that  formed  a  sort  of  halo  about  her 
head. 

"  You're  awfully  pretty,  Lu,"  said  Molly,  rousing 
herself  a  little ;  "a  great  deal  nicer  looking  than  I 
am.  You  ought  to  be  in  my  position  ;  and  I  — 
well,  if  I  was  poor,  I  should  know  just  what  to  do." 

"Join  the  Salvation  Army,  perhaps,"  Lu,  said, 
laughing. 

"  Indeed  I  would,"  Molly  said,  with  so  much 
gravity  and  such  decided  emphasis  that  Lu's 
cheeks  lost  their  rich  color,  and  she  started  up- 
right in  her  chair. 

"  You  don't  mean  it,  Cousin  Molly  !  you  can't 
mean  it  !  "  she  cried  explosively. 

"  I  do  mean  it,  Lu.  No  other  life  seems  to  me 
to  be  worth  the  living,"  was  the  response. 

"  Not  to  march  round  with  that  ragamuffin 
crowd  —  that  set  of  —  of  jail-birds ; "  and  the  words 
were  spoken  with  irritating  emphasis. 

"  'Tisn't  the  marching,  but  the  good  they  do. 
They  go  right  where  Christ  sent  his  disciples,  in 
the  by-ways  and  the  alleys.  I  might  march,  and 
I  might  not ;  but  I  covet  the  crown  they  are  earn- 
ing by  their  noble  efforts.  You  don't  know  them 
as  I  do." 

"  Know  them,  no,  I  hope  not.  I  most  devoutly 
hope  not,"  said  Lu  with  a  shudder.  "  Dirt  is  re- 
pulsive to  me,  common  humanity  turns  me  sick, 
for  I  hate  the  gutters.  The  Salvation  Army ! 
Ugh !  Captain  Molly  Stanley,  the  daughter  of  the 


36  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

eminent  banker,  cheek  by  jowl  with  the  most  dis- 
reputable body  of  slummers  that  the  world  has 
ever  seen.  Do  you  know  what  it  means  ?  Social 
ostracism  !  Even  /  wouldn't  speak  to  you.  But 
come,"  her  mood  changed,  "  get  you  into  some  re- 
spectable nunnery,  but  will  me  your  jewels  and 
your  nice  wardrobe  first,  if  you  must  do  something 
startling.  Heavens  and  earth  !"  She  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands,  and  fell  back  exhausted. 

"  I  wish  you  had  everything  belonging  to  me, 
Lu,  —  position,  lover,  and  all.  You  see,  I  feel  that 
I  am  leading  a  false  life,  and  consequently  I  am 
not  happy.  I  cannot  be  !  I  cannot  be !  "  she  cried, 
wringing  her  hands,  a  sob  in  her  voice.  "Some- 
thing is  telling  me  all  the  time  to  be  true  to  my- 
self, to  throw  aside  the  pomps  and  vanities  "  — 

"  To  put  on  a  coal-scuttle  poke,  and  take  on  the 
sweat  and  grime  of  the  worst  purlieus  of  the 
city,"  Lu  broke  in. 

"  To  try  to  save  souls  !  "  said  Molly  with  a  grave 
face  and  solemn  voice.  "  I  am  rich ;  I  am  a  Church- 
woman  ;  I  sit  under  an  eloquent  clergyman  who 
talks  most  pathetically  about  the  sorrows  of  the 
poor.  We  sing,  comfortably  seated  and  fashion- 
ably dressed,  the  '  Sweet  By  and  By,'  looking  for- 
ward to  another  form  of  existence ;  but  what  of 
the  present  life  ?  What  of  the  crushed  spirits  that 
can't  get  out  to  any  church  ?  can't  get  clothes ! 
can't  get  food  !  What  of  the  horrible  present, 
while  men,  women  and  children  are  starving, 


A    CONFIDENTIAL    TALK  37 

and  can  find  no  way  to  the  Sweet  By  and  By  ? 
Last  Sunday  we  took  up  a  collection  for  the  poor 
—  just  a  few  within  our  own  ken.  Mamie  Riv- 
ers sang  a  solo,  '  Rescue  the  Perishing '  —  who 
is  going  to  do  it  ?  Beyond  giving  a  pittance, 
not  a  fashionable  woman  in  that  fashionable 
church !  How  sweetly  sad  everybody  looked ! 
Old  Colonel  Turner,  with  his  pale,  handsome, 
sanctified  face,  every  hair  of  glistening  silver,  who 
owns  tenement  houses  and  gin  palaces  by  the 
dozen,  looked  up  to  the  ceiling  in  the  most  pa- 
thetic, saint-like  way.  I  suppose  he  gave  a  dollar 
in  exchange  for  the  hundreds  he  steals  from  the 
horribly  wretched  slums  in  this  metropolis.  I 
wonder  how  many  bless  his  gray  hairs?  I  heard 
an  old  man  with  hair  as  white  as  his  cursing  him 
last  week.  There  he  stood,  with  his  poor  old 
wife,  one  of  the  sweetest,  saddest  faces!  and  oh, 
dear,  the  day  was  bitterly  cold !  There  stood 
those  two  dear  souls,  who  have  seen  better  days, 
on  the  snowy  sidewalk,  their  wretched  belong- 
ings, —  a  broken  stove,  a  few  quilts  and  pillows,  a 
chair  or  two,  —  all  the  poor  pitiful  little  household 
goods  dumped  in  the  snow  and  water.  I  don't 
wonder  he  cursed  him.  Before  Heaven,  I  could 
have  cursed  him  too  ! " 

Molly  was  rash,  she  was  an  enthusiast,  she  was 
very  young.  Later,  when  years  brought  wisdom, 
and  her  judgment  had  grown  clearer,  she  saw  how 
God  even  in  his  church  allows  the  tares  to  grow 
side  by  side  with  the  wheat. 


38  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

She  had  risen,  her  eyes  blazing,  her  slight  figure 
raised  to  its  utmost  indignant  height.  Just  at 
that  moment  came  the  strains  of  "The  Sweet  By 
and  By  "  on  the  silent  night  air.  From  the  win- 
dows where  costly  velvet  curtains  were  partly 
drawn  aside  stole  upon  the  sight  a  new  moon,  a 
few  vividly  bright  stars  set  in  the  deeps  of  the 
heavens. 

Molly's  hands  fell.  Tear-drops  sparkled  on  her 
lashes.  Lu,  with  both  hands  on  the  arms  of  the 
great  chair,  gazed  at  her  cousin,  awed  into  silence. 
On  came  the  little  band,  nearer  and  nearer,  then 
stopped.  There  were  not  many  instruments,  —  a 
flute,  a  violin,  a  cornet,  a  horn  or  two,  a  drum,  — 
but  just  now  they  were  all  in  tune. 

"  They  are  stopping  here,"  whispered  Lu,  look- 
ing out  carefully. 

"Yes;  don't  let  yourself  be  seen,"  Molly  said 
in  an  exhausted  voice ;  "  I  don't  want  to  make 
papa  any  angrier  than  he  is.  I  suppose  they  are 
paying  me  a  compliment.  They  know  how  I  feel, 
at  least  Ensign  Harry  knows." 

"Ensign  Harry!"  Lu  repeated,  curiously  look- 
ing round  with  knitted  brows.  "A  man  ?  " 

"A  girl,  older  than  I  am,  and  much  prettier;  an 
English  girl,  who  left  all  the  comforts  of  home, 
and  a  lover  she  loved  dearly,  at  the  call  of  the 
Master.  Oh,  if  you  could  hear  her  !  The  stories 
of  wretchedness  she  tells  would  sink  into  your 
heart." 


A    CONFIDENTIAL    TALK  39 

"  I  don't  want  to.  I  haven't  a  bit  of  talent  that 
way.  It  would  kill  me,  and  I  don't  want  to  die. 
A  woman !  an  ensign !  What  a  terrible  thing  it 
is !  She'd  better  have  married  her  lover,  and 
made  one  home  and  one  heart  happier.  Instead 
of  that — marching  with  men  and  boys — working 
in  disgusting  dens.  No,  Molly,  I  don't  want  any 
of  it ;  neither  do  you.  Be  content  with  the  state 
in  which  it  has  pleased  Providence  to  place  you." 

"  You  think  all  this  sin,  suffering,  and  misery 
please  God,  then  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  it.  I  don't  want 
to  know  anything  about  it.  I  suppose  there's 
some  reason  for  the  slums,  but  it's  all  awfully 
disgusting  to  me.  Take  me  to  a  picture-gallery, 
but  spare  me  the  tenement  houses.  They're  vul- 
gar. Everything  outside  of  cleanliness  and  de- 
cency is  vulgar.  And  the  idea  of  you  connecting 
yourself  with  such  a  miserable  organization  is 
worse  than  all.  Molly,  are  you  crazy?" 

"Would  you  think  me  crazy  if  I  turned  over  all 
my  fine  things  to  you,  and  took  my  place  with 
those  humble  people  ? "  Molly  asked. 

"I  certainly  should,"  her  cousin  said.  "I  al- 
most fear  you  are." 

The  little  band  outside  at  last  moved  on,  and 
softer  and  sadder  grew  the  strains,  while  the  two 
girls  listened,  the  one  all  fervor,  the  other  all  fear. 


4O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   VII 

NAN 

Pray  Heaven  for  a  human  heart, 
And  let  your  selfish  sorrow  go. 

"  BUT  you  see,  Reine,  I  was  so  overjoyed  !  It 
must  have  been  that  —  for  the  thought  that  I  had 
a  son,  a  boy  !  quite  overcame  me,  and  I  had  to 
drink  his  health.  But  that  is  the  last  time — I 
swear  it  is  the  last  time !  I  have  some  splendid 
designs  in  my  brain,  mad  though  it  was  last  night ; 
and  I  promise  you  I  will  bring  home  money  for 
you  and  the  boy  —  for  my  wife  and  my  son  ! " 

Sebastian  stood  up  proudly,  his  face  all  aglow 
with  the  satisfaction  which  his  own  words  created. 

Reine  had  no  difficulty  in  believing  him.  How 
could  a  man  with  such  a  face  and  figure,  albeit 
the  lines  of  both  were  sadly  distrait,  falsify  his 
word  ?  And  although  he  had  done  so  a  thousand 
times,  she  was  willing  to  believe  and  receive  him 
again  and  again. 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  crazy  door.  Blue 
eyes,  a  bewitching  little  aigrette  on  the  folds  of 
an  exquisite  hat,  a  faultlessly  gloved,  gowned, 
and  booted  figure  presented  itself,  as  the  painter 


NAN  41 

opened  the  door.  Mutually  they  stood  and  stared  ; 
Molly  at  the  unwonted  apparition  of  a  man  whose 
presence,  though  battered  and  ill-dressed,  marked 
him  for  a  gentleman ;  Sebastian  at  the  lovely  vis- 
ion standing  in  flesh  and  blood  before  him. 

Reine,  bolstered  up  by  pillows,  looked  so  ethe- 
real, the  faint  scarlet  of  surprise  flushing  her 
cheeks,  and  the  delight  of  seeing  her  visitor 
bringing  a  rush  of  tears  to  her  soft  bright  eyes, 
that  Miss  Stanley  could  hardly  keep  back  an  ejac- 
ulation of  admiration.  Who  were  these  dwellers 
in  the  lower  world  whose  natural  affinity  for  the 
pure  and  the  beautiful  had  evidently  been  tam- 
pered with  by  shrewish  fate  ? 

"  It's  by  the  help  of  the  good  people  in  Paradise 
Flats  that  we  look  so  nice,  baby  and  me,"  said 
Reine  honestly,  as  a  heavy  basket  was  deposited 
by  a  supercilious  boy  in  livery  at  the  side  of  the 
bed,  during  which  operation  Sebastian,  too  shame- 
faced to  stay,  had  flitted.  "  I  haven't  got  many 
good  things  of  my  own,  but  they  all  take  so  much 
interest  in  the  baby,  you  know,"  with  a  seraphic 
smile.  "  See,  he  has  a  nice  little  cambric  long 
gown,  the  only  one  I  ever  bought  for  him  —  and 
then  was  taken  sick  before  I  could  finish  it.  Miss 
Martin  did  it  —  took  it  up-stairs  and  made  the 
whole,  little  cap  and  all.  They're  awful  poor 
here,  and  you  wouldn't  look  at  some,  maybe  — 
small  blame  too ;  but  you  don't  know  how  kind 
they  are.  Somebody's  sending  me  down  some- 


42  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

thing  every  day.  The  closet  is  quite  full  of  good 
things  to  eat.  I  know  they  drink,  some  of  them, 
and  quarrel  and  fight ;  but  dear  me,  unless  they're 
starving  they  always  think  of  them  that's  worse 
off.  And  they  all  love  the  baby  !  " 

"I  don't  wonder,"  was  the  rejoinder;  "  but  they 
won't  need  to  trouble  themselves  any  longer  in 
the  matter  of  clothes.  In  that  hamper  there  is 
everything  your  baby  will  need  till  it  is  quite 
grown.  Some  were  given  me,  and  some  I  bought." 

The  door  at  the  back  staircase  opened. 

Enveloped  in  an  old  red-and-black  shawl  which 
dragged  behind  her,  and  with  a  brown,  battered, 
old-world-looking  violin-case  in  her  hand,  Nan  en- 
tered, her  poor  little  face  swelled  and  disfigured 
by  tears.  She  was  evidently  quite  surprised  to 
see  a  visitor,  and  began  to  back  out. 

"  Don't  go,  Nan.  This  lady  will  excuse  you," 
said  Reine.  "  She  has  just  lost  her  father,  miss  ; 
and  she  is  bringing  his  old  violin  down  here  for 
safe  keeping,"  she  went  on,  as  Nan  stood  irreso- 
lute, her  great  eyes  glowing  and  palpitating  —  the 
eyes  of  Italia. 

"  Come  here,  child !  and  is  —  the  violin  for 
sale  ?  "  asked  Molly,  regarding  the  girl  with  new 
interest. 

"  No !  oh,  no,  indeed  !  no !  Even  father  wouldn't 
sell  it  to  buy  wine  with  when  he  needed  it  so 
much.  He  left  it  for  me  ;  it's  mine  !  "  she  sobbed 
—  "  mine !  "  clutching  it  to  her  bosom. 


NAN  43 

"  She  plays  a  little  herself,  the  child,"  said 
Reine  —  "on  the  street.  Once  her  father  led  the 
orchestra,  but  he  took  sick.  Her  mother  died 
five  years  ago,  her  father  yesterday.  Oh,  no  ;  she 
only  fears  that  somebody  will  take  the  violin,  for 
rent  or  something;  and  I  told  her  to  bring  it  here. 
He  lays  dead  up-stairs.  A  good  old  man  he  was, 
with  white  hair  —  so  good  !  " 

"  And  is  money  due  on  the  rent,  my  poor 
child  ? "  asked  Molly,  all  palpitating  with  tender 
sorrow. 

"  Yes,  miss ;  and  it  will  take  me  a  great  while 
to  pay  it.  As  soon  as  —  as  —  he  is  buried,"  she 
added  chokingly,  "  I  will  go  out  on  the  street  to 
play.  Sometimes  I  make  as  high  as  a  quarter  a 
day  ;  but  when  he  was  so  ill,  he  needed  me,  —  I 
could  not  go.  Mrs.  Sebastian  gave  me  a  dollar 
yesterday,  and  that  will  help.  Then  by  and  by  I 
will  pay  her  back." 

"  And  how  much  more  rent  is  due  ? "  Molly 
asked. 

"  Three  dollars.  The  landlord  couldn't  put  him 
out,  you  know,  sick  as  he  was,  though  he  is  a 
hard  man  ;  and  of  course,"  she  added,  as  an  after- 
thought, "the  rent  was  due,  and  the  money  is  his  ; 
but  if  he  will  only  give  me  time,  and  not  take  the 
bed,  I  will  certainly  pay  him  !" 

"You  certainly  shall;  and  here  is  the  amount 
and  a  little  over,"  said  Molly,  pressing  a  five-dol- 
lar bill  into  the  child's  hand. 


44  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  O  miss  !  I'll  pay  you  back,  every  cent !  "  the 
ready  tears  starting  again.  "  How  good  you  are  ! 
and  you  don't  know  me,  either." 

"  You  shall  pay  me  by  playing  sometime,"  was 
the  answer,  as  the  girl  thrust  the  violin  out  of 
sight  under  the  bed. 

"  Is  that  the  best  shawl  you  have  ? "  Molly 
asked. 

"That's  the  best ;  and  I'm  going  to  let  her  have 
my  hat  for  the  funeral,"  Reine  made  haste  to 
say.  "And  only  think,  poor  as  they  are  here,  the 
people  made  a  collection,  and  got  enough  for  a 
coffin.  Of  course  he  must  be  buried  at  the  city's 
expense,  in  the  Potter's  Field." 

"That's  what  hurts,"  the  child  began  sobbing 
afresh.  "  If  he  could  only  be  buried  by  mamma. 
She's  got  a  good  grave-lot,  because  papa  was  do- 
ing well,  and  now  they  must  be  separated." 

How  she  reached  the  room  at  the  top  of  the 
house,  holding  by  broken  rails,  stumbling  over 
children,  and  half-choked  by  the  peculiar  aroma 
of  soap-suds,  Molly  never  knew ;  but  when  Nan 
applied  the  key,  and  the  door  opened  upon  a  room 
with  one  chair,  something  that  did  duty  for  a 
table,  and  a  bedstead,  her  heart  sank  at  the  sight. 

The  finely  lined  features  of  the  dead  pauper 
presented  an  almost  Byronic  delicacy  of  contour. 
The  white  hair  curled  back  from  a  noble  brow, 
the  thin,  aristocratic,  and  well-marked  nose,  the 


NAN  45 

pathetic  curve  of  the  lips,  made  up  in  refinement 
for  the  lack  of  better  surroundings  and  the  pov- 
erty of  his  general  garb.  It  was  as  if  in  death  the 
lofty  spirit  lifted  itself  tentatively  in  this  miser- 
able place,  and  asserted  its  kinship  with  the  best. 

Poor  little  Nan  knelt  down  by  the  bed,  and 
buried  her  face  in  the  thin  woollen  quilt.  Then 
she  looked  up  again. 

"  They're  going  to  put  clean  white  sheets  on," 
she  said.  "  Everybody  liked  father." 

"  And  do  you  remember  when  he  led  the  or- 
chestra ? "  asked  Molly. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  was  very  little.  He  took  me  with 
him  sometimes,  and  I  ran  round  by  the  outside 
rails,  I  was  so  little.  He  had  a  silver  stick  in  his 
hand,  all  silver ;  it  was  given  him  for  a  present, 
and  we  had  to  pawn  it,  only  think  !  But  what 
could  he  do  when  he  got  so  sick  ?  He  never  was 
quite  well,  but  he  would  go  in  any  storm  to  play 
in  halls  or  at  concerts.  Afterwards  he  went  on 
the  streets,  and  he  played  the  violin  and  I  sang. 
Then  we  made  money  enough  to  be  comfortable. 
But  he  grew  worse,  and  I  had  to  go  out  alone.  O 
poor  father,  poor  father  !  And  only  little  Nan  to 
care  for  you  !  " 

Miss  Stanley  soothed  the  child's  grief  as  best 
she  could  ;  and  the  little  plan  she  had  formed  in 
her  mind  was  carefully  and  thoroughly  carried 
out. 

People  who  saw  the  simple  funeral  on  the  next 


46  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

day,  followed  by  the  Salvationists  playing  softly 
and  sadly  some  of  the  old  familiar  hymns,  stopped 
and  wondered.  There  was  one  carriage,  in  which 
a  few  of  the  best  neighbors  and  little  Nan  herself 
sat  wondering.  At  the  funerals  that  took  place  in 
Paradise  Flats  there  were  seldom  any  carriages. 


ENSIGN    HARRY  47 


CHAPTER   VIII 

ENSIGN    HARRY 
And  all  hearts  bless  her  as  she  passes  by. 

IT  could  not  be  said  of  the  dwellers  in  Paradise 
Flats  that  they  were  lonely.  I  grant  you  that  the 
newly  rich,  living  in  their  palace  homes,  strangers 
to  the  haut  ton,  and  moving  drearily  through  their 
expensively  decorated  homes,  may  have  everything 
that  money  can  give,  everything  but  the  one  they 
crave,  —  the  social  element.  That  was  not  want- 
ing, such  as  it  was,  among  our  dwellers  in  the 
great  tenement  house.  No.  4  drifted  into  No.  5, 
and  imparted  all  the  stores  of  her  knowledge. 
No.  6  told  alarming  stories  of  No.  5  ;  and  the  con- 
sequence was,  that  there  was  no  end  of  rows,  but 
also  no  end  of  sociability.  A  few  who  had  lived 
their  lives  in  better  surroundings  knew  how  to 
keep  their  places.  Mrs.  Ryder,  the  tailoress, 
never  went  to  any  of  the  receptions  —  she  called 
them  "sprees" — held  by  her  neighbors,  above  or 
below.  An  invitation  would  have  insulted  her. 

Nan  and  her  father  had  liv-ed  at  the  top  of  the 
house  —  there  were  seven  stories  in  Paradise 
Flats.  The  higher  they  went,  some  people  said, 


48  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

the  more  exclusive  they  were.  Certainly  the 
rents  were  cheaper. 

When  Nan  came  home  from  the  funeral,  Miss 
Stanley  was  waiting  for  her.  The  child  wore  a 
neat  dark  dress  given  her  by  her  new  friend. 
Her  hat  was  trimmed  with  white  ribbons. 

"I  don't  like  to  see  children  in  black,"  Miss 
Stanley  said  emphatically  to  her  new  acquaint- 
ance, Reine. 

And  now,  what  was  to  be  done  with  the  girl  ? 
The  child  herself  pleaded  to  go  back  to  the  old 
place.  She  was  quite  competent,  she  said,  to  take 
care  of  herself.  Had  she  not  earned  money  for 
her  father  for  two  years  ?  Miss  Stanley  objected 
to  this,  and  made  arrangements  with  a  Mrs.  Mc- 
Kisseth,  a  comely,  red-cheeked  little  Irish  woman 
who  lived  just  under  the  roof,  to  give  her  a  cor- 
ner, and  a  sup  and  bite  until  she  should  be  able  to 
help  herself.  There  she  left  her,  clutching  the 
old  baize  violin-case  that  contained  King  Solo- 
mon, and  crying  her  eyes  out.  As  Molly  was  go- 
ing down  the  dark  stairs,  a  door  suddenly  opened, 
and  a  waft  of  sunshine  and  perfumed  air  came  out 
into  the  leaden  atmosphere.  A  plain  bonnet,  a 
sweet,  sad  face,  a  cry  of  delight,  and  hands  were 
clasped. 

"  Why,  Ensign  Harry  !  " 

"  Dear,  dear  Miss  Stanley  !  " 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  at  home,"  said  Molly. 

"  I  have  just  come  in.     Won't  you  look  at  my 


ENSIGN    HARRY  49 

room  ?  "  was  the  response.  "  I  was  not  going  out 
for  anything  special." 

The  key  was  applied,  and  the  door  opened. 

"  What  a  cosey  little  den  !  "  cried  Molly. 

"  Yes  ;  it  is  rather  so.  I  prize  the  sunlight 
beyond  everything,  and  here  I  get  it  almost  all 
day." 

Even  Miss  Stanley's  fastidious  eyes  could  see 
no  fault  in  the  arrangement  of  the  few  pieces  of 
furniture.  A  small  rug  laid  on  a  painted  floor, 
a  couch,  four  chairs,  three  choice  little  pictures, 
some  delicate  pieces  of  china,  a  few  home-made 
decorations. 

"I  like  to  make  it  as  cosey  as  possible;  for 
where  I  live,  there  is  my  work,"  said  Ensign 
Harry,  bringing  out  the  best  chair  for  her  friend. 

"  And  you  live  here  alone  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  hardest  part  of  it,"  said  the  little 
woman. 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  My  dress  protects  me.  I 
could  go  in  and  out  at  all  hours  of  the  night. 
Everybody  respects  the  uniform,"  she  added,  smil- 
ing. "All  the  people  in  this  place  are  friendly. 
Sometimes  they  can  be  influenced  in  a  general 
way.  It  is  a  great  work.  To  see  the  results  in  a 
well-ordered  life,  —  cruel,  beastly  natures  changed, 
drunkards  reclaimed,  families  living  in  peace  and 
anxious  for  culture,  repays  one  for  all  the  self- 
denial  the  work  entails.  My  home  people  are 


SO  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

very  angry  with  me,  though ;  that  is  the  one  sad 
thing  about  it." 

"  Did  they  need  your  help  ?  Did  you  leave 
them  in  a  way  your  conscience  could  not  quite 
justify?"  asked  Molly. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  my  father  is  a  large  mill-owner ;  my 
sisters  are  all  at  home  except  one,  who  is  married. 
I  was  not  specially  needed  there.  They  simply 
did  not  want  me  to  ally  myself  with  what  they 
call  the  lower  orders.  You  know  how  English 
people  feel  about  such  things  ;  they  don't  like  the 
uniform,  the  strolling  life.  It  was  no  easy  thing 
for  me  to  decide  to  break  away  from  all  the  dear- 
est ties  of  family  and  friends  "  —  her  voice  broke 
a  little.  "  There  was  one  —  well,  I  must  not  talk 
about  him.  He  loved  me,  and  I  loved  him  ;  but 
I  gave  him  up  "  —  a  ring  of  suppressed  triumph 
sounded  through  her  voice.  "  I  think  I  did  it 
cheerfully,  though  for  a  time  my  heart  rebelled. 
But  could  I  live  in  idleness  and  luxury,  and  all 
those  miserable  breaking  hearts  calling  for  help?" 
A  sweet,  sad  smile  overspread  her  face.  "  It  is 
a  glorious  privilege,  —  this  of  saving  men  and 
women,  of  saving  them  for  this  life,  even  if  they 
will  not  think  of  the  other.  Good  temperate  fire- 
sides and  honest  affection,  I  think,  sometimes  help 
in  fitting  souls  for  the  kingdom ;  and  if  you  get  no 
farther  than  that,  it  is  a  grand  work  to  do." 

"  Oh,  nobly  grand  !  "  was  Molly's  response  ;  "  a 
work  above  all  work  that  I  should  like  to  do.  I 


ENSIGN    HARRY  51 

have  no  mother,  no  brothers,  no  sisters.  I  was 
born  rich  ;  I  have  never  known  anything  outside 
of  a  luxurious  life,  but  it  is  not  a  happy  one." 

Ensign  Harry  (her  Christian  name  was  Harriet) 
regarded  her  visitor  with  speculative  eyes.  She 
saw  in  her  the  ready  wit,  the  easy,  graceful  man- 
ner, of  the  woman  of  the  world.  In  her  own  little 
North-country  home,  there  had  never  been  any 
very  exciting  social  duties.  Now  and  then  a  visit 
to  the  city,  here  a  concert,  there  a  lecture  ;  but  to 
Miss  Stanley,  the  etiquette  and  elegance  of  society 
must  be  as  native  to  her  nature  as  the  breath  she 
drew. 

It  was  that  which  made  her  launch  out  into  most 
graphic  descriptions  of  the  life  she  led,  —  the  mis- 
eries, degradation,  filth,  unsavoriness  of  living, 
which  they  encountered  not  daily,  but  hourly  ;  and 
she  drew  a  quick  breath  when,  after  the  pictured 
unwholesomeness  of  it  all,  her  listener  said,  — 

"That  is  living!  that  is  just  what  I  should  like 
to  do  ! " 

"But  your  father!  "  said  Ensign  Harry,  clasping 
and  unclasping  her  thin,  shapely  fingers,  noting 
every  detail  in  the  soft  percale  dress  of  palest 
blue,  the  dainty  gloves,  the  lace  that  in  snowy 
flutings  encircled  her  throat,  the  pretty  straw  hat 
with  its  small  white  wing,  emphasizing  above  the 
blue  trimmings  the  snowy  tints  of  her  skin ; 
"  what  would  he  say  ?  " 

"I  don't  know;"  and  Molly  gazed  abstractedly 


52  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

at  the  slender  foot  just  peeping  from  under  the 
folds  of  her  dress  ;  "  I  suppose  he  would  be  very 
angry.  He  might  disown  me.  I'm  sure  all  my 
fashionable  friends  would.  But  then,  you  know," 
her  face  brightened,  "  he  that  would  do  the  King's 
commands  may  be  called  upon  to  leave  father  and 
mother.  If  I  am  called  "  —  she  hesitated. 

"  Yes,  if  you  are  called  !  "  said  Ensign  Harry ; 
"you  must  first  be  sure  of  that." 

"  You  left  father  and  mother,  and  even  more," 
said  Molly. 

"  I  did  ;  and  I  have  never  been  sorry,"  was  the 
reply.  The  blue  eyes  were  hidden  now,  the  whole 
face  was  in  shadow,  the  hands  lay  passive  in  her 
lap. 

"  Then,  why  not  I  ?  "  questioned  Molly. 

"  Oh,  the  work  is  grand  —  yes  —  but  —  I  some- 
times ask  how  can  even  God  be  satisfied  with  such 
small  results.  The  drunkards  are  past  computing, 
the  wickedness  of  the  wicked  is  terrible.  The 
whole  sea  of  fallen  humanity  is  seething,  and  we 
can  only  throw  one  small  candlelight  upon  here 
and  there  a  wave.  It  is  very  discouraging  some- 
times." 

"  But  to  save  one  !  "  said  Molly. 

"  Yes,  to  save  one  !  "  Ensign  Harry  looked  up, 
a  flash  of  rapture  in  her  eyes ;  "  it  is  like  catching 
glimpses  of  heaven  here  and  there." 

Molly  went  home  after  a  brief  visit  to  Reine  and 
Baby  Bassett.  On  her  way  she  passed  Sebastian 


ENSIGN    HARRY  53 

outlining  a  wonderful  group  on  the  pavement  with 
chalk.  The  man  pulled  his  ragged  felt  hat  over 
his  eyes,  and  bent  lower  to  his  task.  Miss  Stan- 
ley was  ashamed  of  him,  for  him,  and  passed  rap- 
idly by.  This  caricature  of  genius,  grubbing  for  a 
penny  while  full  purses  and  palace  homes  waited 
his  pleasure  if  only  his  manhood  could  conquer, 
angered  her. 

"  I  will  try  !     I  will  try  !  "  she  said  to  herself. 
"  If  only  to  save  him  !    This  life  I  shall  like, 
have  never  more  than  tolerated  the  other." 


54  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER  IX 

RUSSELL    STAGEY 
A  home  in  -which  the  heart  can  live, 

MOLLY  sped  homeward.  A  lackey,  obsequious 
and  well-uniformed,  let  her  into  the  trim  splendor 
of  the  hall.  It  was  four  o'clock,  and  she  knew 
her  father  was  at  home.  A  faint  odor  of  cigar- 
smoke  impregnated  the  air.  As  she  went  farther 
on,  she  heard  voices,  and  knew  that  Russell 
Stacey  was  with  her  father. 

She  ran  lightly  up-stairs,  only  half  pleased  at 
the  reflection  that  perhaps  he  would  stay  to  din- 
ner. 

Stacey  and  the  banker  were  talking  about  the 
merits  of  the  last  race ;  at  least,  Stacey,  who  had 
witnessed  the  performance,  was  relating  the  de- 
tails of  the  sport  in  his  own  way. 

"  Of  the  eighteen  nominations,"  said  the  fair- 
haired  young  fellow,  leaning  back,  one  leg  thrown 
over  the  rich  velvet  arm  of  a  big  chair,  "  but  two 
horses  faced  the  starter,  and  Madge  was  the  warm- 
est kind  of  a  favorite.  Maid  Marian  at  once  took 
the  lead  with  Madge,  and  kept  it  all  the  way  round 
to  the  last  furlong  pole,  when  Janning,  who  had 


RUSSELL    STAGEY  55 

Jenny  Wales  well  in  hand,  and  close  by,  began  to 
force  the  pace.  They  came  down  by  the  stretch 
almost  neck  and  neck  ;  but  by  clever  riding,  Madge 
was  shot  ahead  just  at  the  judges'  stand,  and  won 
by  a  neck.  I  tell  you  that's  the  horse  for  my 
money.  I  won  a  clear  two  thousand  by  her." 

"  Stacey,  you  ought  to  be  a  Bohemian,"  said  the 
banker,  after  a  pause. 

"  I  am  —  a  born  one,"  was  the  laughing  re- 
joinder, "  as  far  as  taste  is  concerned." 

"Yet  you're  always  lucky." 

"  Always,  in  most  things,"  was  the  reply,  — 
"things  that  are  not  vital  to  my  happiness.  How- 
ever, perhaps  I  belong  to  the  vagabond  class,  after 
all.  I'm  never  so  happy  as  when,  in  some  of  those 
down-town  studios,  I  can  watch  and  work  with  the 
devil-may-care  fellows  one  meets  there." 

"What  kind  of  work  do  they  do?"  asked  the 
banker. 

"  Oh,  simply  pot-boilers,  most  of  them.  They're 
a  fraternity,  club  together  for  their  models,  their 
meals,  and  enjoy  rollicking  good  times.  Most  of 
them  like  their  potations  better  than  their  paint- 
ing. Those  are  the  daubers  that  put  lots  of  blue 
in  the  sky,  and  painful  dabs  of  green  in  the  foli- 
age. Occasionally  you'll  meet  a  genius,  a  real 
genius,  there.  One  fellow  comes  in  sometimes  in 
a  slouch  hat,  and,  well,  you  might  as  well  say 
rags,  who,  it  is  said,  is  the  son  of  an  English 
nobleman.  Remarkably  fine-looking.  Briton  to 


56  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

the  back-bone,  and  the  possessor  of  more  than  the 
average  of  manly  beauty.  Yet  he  makes  a  mis- 
erable living  by  chalking  pictures  on  the  pave- 
ment. Think  of  that  for  a  full-grown  man,  and 
a  scion  of  nobility  —  perhaps!" 

"  Of  course  he  is  worthless,"  said  the  banker. 

"Yes  ;  I'm  afraid  so.  Even  the  Salvation  Army 
hasn't  caught  him  yet.  By-the-by,  is  Miss  Stan- 
ley still  anxious  to  throw  in  her  lot  with  that  pe- 
culiar people  ? " 

"  I  have  heard  nothing  to  the  contrary,"  said 
the  banker.  "  It's  a  fad,  you  know ;  and  she  is 
not  going  to  content  herself  till  she  joins  them." 

"Great  Scott !  you  wouldn't  allow  it,"  the  young 
fellow  exclaimed,  taking  his  cigar  between  finger 
and  thumb. 

"  What's  the  good  of  fighting  ?  I  have  come  to 
a  decision  about  it." 

"  And  pray,  what  is  that  ? " 

"  To  let  her  go.  That  means  punishment.  If  I 
refused  —  that  would  mean  tyranny.  It  won't  last 
long." 

"  But  great  Heaven  !  a  young  and  beautiful  girl 
without  protection !  subject  to  all  sorts  of  in- 
sults." 

"  Sit  down,  my  boy,"  said  the  banker ;  for  young 
Stacey,  impelled  by  a  violent  emotion,  had  risen 
and  was  walking  back  and  forth  ;  "  let  me  give 
you  a  few  of  my  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  I 
promised  my  wife  when  she  was  dying  not  to 


RUSSELL    STAGEY  57 

interfere  with  Molly's  religious  convictions.  In 
the  second,  I  am  sure  this  romantic  sentiment 
will  wear  itself  out.  In  the  third,  if  I  don't  give 
my  consent,  she  will  go  without  it,  which  will  be 
equivalent  to  her  running  away,  and  will  make 
no  end  of  scandal.  She  anticipates  a  refusal ; 
instead,  I  will  made  her  way  as  smooth  as  pos- 
sible;  that  will  quash  the  romance, — the  idea  of 
self-immolation,  — and  all  that  nonsense.  Besides, 
I'm  not  unwilling  that  she  should  punish  herself 
by  coming  face  to  face  with  poverty  —  yes,  and 
even  crime.  She  is  of  a  sensitive  nature,  with  all 
her  philanthropical  notions ;  and  the  thing  will 
naturally  disgust  her.  Thus,  in  making  the  way 
easy  for  her,  I  am  the  more  effectually  barring  it. 
There's  no  use  in  talking.  Like  a  well-trained 
father,  I  must  submit." 

"  But  what  in  the  devil  am  /to  do  ?  "  and  young 
Stacey  turned  his  handsome,  almost  haggard  face 
toward  the  banker. 

"  Young  man,"  was  the  retort,  "  Molly  is  more 
than  I  can  manage ;  you  must  look  out  for  your- 
self." 

"  And  I  will,  by  heavens!  "  muttered  the  young 
fellow ;  "  I'll  speak  to  her  to-night.  I  love  that 
girl  better  than  my  own  life.  I  vow  to  God  I  will 
conquer  her !  " 

Miss  Stanley  looked  provokingly  pretty  at  din- 
ner-time in  her  simple  but  artistic  white  dress. 
If  possible,  the  white  became  her  better  than  the 


58  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

blue.  Its  filmy  folds  fell  about  her  lithe,  slender 
figure  like  a  silvery  mist ;  and  the  sweetness  and 
delicacy  of  her  manner  sent  a  thrill  through  the 
veins  of  Russell  Stacey,  as  he  pictured  her  in  a 
cotton  gown  and  nondescript  bonnet. 

After  dinner  she  played  and  sang,  with  the  fin- 
ish of  a  well-trained  amateur,  and  then  young 
Stacey  drew  her  away  by  himself  into  an  arched 
recess  lined  with  silver  gray  drapery. 

"  I  am  determined  to  protest,"  thought  he,  "and 
to  propose." 

"  I  might  as  well  give  him  his  quietus,"  said 
Molly  to  herself. 

"  Do  you  think  your  father  is  as  well  as  usual  ? " 
he  began. 

"  Papa  !  "  It  was  with  a  real  start  and  a  shiver 
of  terror  that  she  turned  upon  him. 

"  Yes ;  isn't  there  a  little  —  j  ust  a  little  languor  ? " 
he  went  on  —  "you  see  him  more  than  I  do. 
But  then  you  know  my  profession  enables  me  to 
be  more  observing  than  ordinary.  I  watch  him 
critically.  Is  there  any  tendency  to  heart-trou- 
ble ? " 

"  You  alarm  me,  Mr.  Stacey.  My  father  looks 
no  less  vigorous  to  me  now  than  he  did  ten  years 
ago,"  said  Molly. 

"  Then  perhaps  I  am  too  professional  in  my 
observations.  He  certainly  has  the  appearance  of 
a  man -who  suffers  —  not  continually,  you  under- 
stand, but  at  times  —  from  heart-trouble." 


RUSSELL    STAGEY  59 

Miss  Stanley  felt  her  own  heart  quake  a  little. 
Was  it  possible  that  his  quick  eyes  had  noticed 
what  might  pass  unnoticed  by  her?  And  if  her 
father  had  heart-trouble,  then  it  behooved  her  to 
watch  him  carefully,  and  allow  nothing  to  happen 
which  might  tend  to  quicken  his  pulses  or  trouble 
his  mind.  Unfortunately  for  him,  she  caught  a 
glimpse  of  his  eye  that  put  her  on  her  guard. 

"  Mr.  Stacey,  you  are  a  full-fledged  doctor, 
aren't  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Certainly  I  am,"  he  replied. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  practise  ?  You  might 
begin  on  papa,"  she  added  slyly. 

It  was  a  pertinent  question,  yet  altogether  a 
piece  of  sly  impertinence.  He  felt  the  blood  sur- 
ging over  his  forehead. 

"  Why  —  really  —  I  haven't  the  least  need,  you 
know,"  he  made  answer. 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  am  aware  that  you  are  rich 
enough  to  live  without  a  profession,"  and  her 
voice  rang  with  sarcasm  ;  "  but  why  not  practise 
among  the  poor,  and  give  your  services  ?  " 

"  I  might  answer  because  I  don't  choose  to," 
he  said  ;  "  but  really,  you  are  so  —  so  downright 
practical  that  you  confuse  me,"  he  said. 

"  I  only  asked  you  a  simple  question,"  was  the 
girl's  rejoinder,  the  blue  eyes  looking  innocently 
into  his  own.  "Why  just  think!  Who  can 
measure  the  good  you  might  do  ? " 

"  Why,  so  I  might,"  he  replied,  amused  at  her 


6O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

earnestness.  "Well,  I'll  practise  on  one  condi- 
tion." 

"  And  that  ?  "  she  asked,  smiling. 

"  That  you  will  be  willing  to  share  the  chances 
of  a  doctor's  life  with  me.  Good  heavens,  it  is 
slavery,  you  know !  No  night,  no  day,  no  hour 
even,  that  he  can  call  his  own,  —  running  the 
risk  of  contagion,  small-pox,  yellow-fever,  cholera, 
blood-poison  —  charming  list,  isn't  it  ?  But  all 
this  I  will  do  and  dare  for  your  sake,  Miss  Stan- 
ley ;  may  I  speak  to  your  father  ?  He  does  not, 
I  hope,  object  to  having  me  for  a  son-in-law. 
Come,  now,  acknowledge  I  have  been  frank." 

"  Yes,  you  have,"  she  made  answer ;  and  though 
the  two  cheeks  were  flushed  with  brighter  than 
their  usual  soft  carmine,  she  did  not  flinch.  "  I 
will  be  equally  frank,"  she  continued.  "  I  do  not 
love  you  enough  to  marry  you.  I  shall  never  love 
any  man.  My  life  will  be  devoted  to  other  pur- 
poses." 

"  I  do  not  love  my  profession  sufficiently  to 
practise  it ;  but  for  your  sake,  I  would  willingly 
sacrifice  my  dearest  inclinations,"  he  said ;  and 
said  it  sincerely.  Instinctively  she  looked  up,  and 
knew  in  that  moment  that  she  was  nearer  to  lov- 
ing him  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life.  The 
glances  he  gave  her  revealed  depths  of  feeling. 
His  lovely  Saxon  beauty,  the  curls  of  his  bronze- 
colored  hair,  the  rare  perfection  of  his  features, 
the  reality  of  his  love,  —  all  held  her  spellbound 


RUSSELL    STAGEY  6 1 

for  the  moment.  She  must  break  this  thrall, 
however.  The  current  of  her  chosen  life  must 
not,  should  not,  be  turned.  After  all,  naturally, 
the  man  before  her  was  an  indolent,  smoking, 
wine-drinking,  racing,  self-worshipping  man.  So 
she  had  chosen  to  regard  him,  and  so  he  was. 
To  marry  him  was,  in  her  unworldly  estimation, 
almost  to  throw  her  soul  away.  For  a  moment 
his  beauty  captivated  her ;  and  she  even  said  to 
herself,  "  If  he  were  a  professional  man,  and/00r, 
and  Jiad  side  whiskers,  what  a  splendid  creature 
he  would  be  !  "  I  give  her  thought,  which  was 
girlish,  if  irrelevant. 

"  Mr.  Stacey,  I  have  a  mission  in  life,"  she  said 
simply,  putting  all  the  speculation  aside. 

"  Yes,  every  woman  has,  or  ought  to  have,"  he 
made  ready  answer ;  and  something  in  his  face 
angered  her,  she  could  not  have  told  what.  "I 
also  have  a  mission  ;  but  I  need  some  one  to  aid 
me  in  carrying  it  out." 

"  Your  mission  is  very  different  from  mine,  Mr. 
Russell  Stacey ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  but  that 
you  can  find  some  one  ready  and  willing  to  help 
you.  My  place  is  among  the  poor  and  miserable. 
To  comfort  one  forlorn  heart  I  would  almost  give 
my  life  !  "  she  went  on,  her  fair  face  lighting  up, 
her  voice  growing  passionate. 

"  Behold  the  one  forlorn  heart  !  "  he  said,  with 
such  a  mingling  of  pathos  and  tender  satire  that 
she  laughed  a  young  girl's  hearty,  natural  laugh. 


62  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

Then  with  a  pleading  and  pathos  that  were  almost 
irresistible,  he  hummed  in  an  exquisite  tenor, 
softly,  sweetly,  - 

"My  Molly,  O!" 

and  again  the  girl  felt  that  she  was  dangerously 
near  loving  him. 

"  This  is  strange  love-making,"  he  said  after  a 
moment  ;  "  but  lightly  won,  lightly  held.  I  am 
going  to  persecute  you  into  becoming  my  wife." 

"  Then  our  friendship  must  end  here,"  she  said 
with  dignity.  "  Persecution  I  expect,  and  am  pre- 
pared for,  but  not  from  you." 

He  rose,  and  went  towards  a  vase  of  flowers. 
Extracting  therefrom  a  beautiful  tea-rose,  he  said 
with  more  daring  than  prudence,  — 

"  I  select  this  as  a  decoration  for  the  poke  bon- 
net, and  a  reminder  of  your  clean,  dainty  life. 
Great  God  !  You  leave  a  father  who  needs  you, 
your  friends  who  worship  you,  the  tender  asso- 
ciations of  your  childhood,  the  love  that  would 
shield  you  from  even  one  of  these  thorns,  for 
what  ?  For  things  for  which  I  have  no  name ! 
You,  the  sweetest  exponent  of  fair,  chaste  wo- 
manhood it  has  ever  been  my  good  fortune  to 
know !  And  what  will  be  your  reward  ?  The 
vilest  ingratitude,  the  immeasurable  disgust  of 
your  friends,  a  life  without  consolation  of  any 
kind.  Remember,  I  have  warned  you." 

They  stood  apart,  both  angry,  only  his  anger 


RUSSELL    STAGEY  63 

was  born  of  an  all-conquering  love,  rejected  and 
despised. 

"  Mr.  Stacey,"  she  said  icily,  "  I  don't  wish  to 
quarrel  with  you  —  good-night,"  and  held  out  her 
hand. 

"  I  won't  take  your  hand,"  was  his  bitter  re- 
joinder, "until  you  can  give  me  your  heart  with 
it,"  —  and  he  folded  his  hands  behind  him,  — 
"  but  mark  my  words,  you  will  yet  freely  give 
what  you  now  refuse  ;  for  I  swear  by  the  heaven 
above  me,  you  shall  some  day  be  my  wife  !  " 

She  remembered  afterwards  how  like  a  beau- 
tiful statue  she  had  seen  at  Rome  he  stood  there, 
how  almost  like  a  god.  And  yet  she  was  glad 
she  had  rejected  him. 

"He  certainly  does  love  me!"  she  said  that 
night  to  her  mirror,  and  after  that  in  fragmentary 
ejaculations,  — 

"I'm  sure  I'm  not  as  beautiful  as  Cousin  Lu. 
Why  couldn't  he  fall  in  love,  as  they  call  it,  with 
her  ?  She  adores  beauty  !  And  he  is  gloriously 
—  or  would  have  been  with  side- whiskers.  A  man 
should  never  be  clean  shaven.  I  don't  care  if  he 
is  an  Adonis.  Ensign  Harry  loved  the  man  she 
rejected  —  loved  him  dearly!  That  was  a  sacri- 
fice !  I  don't  love  Russell  Stacey  !  Pretty  near 
it,  though.  And,  ah  !  I  see  his  motive  for  giving 
me  a  fright.  Papa  —  heart  disease  !  Very  adroit, 
Mr .  Russell  Stacey.  You  thought  I  could  be 
frightened  into  submission,  did  you  ?  So  you  are 


64  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

going  to  persecute  me  into  becoming  your  wife, 
are  you  ?  I'm  very  glad  I  didn't  give  him  my 
hand  —  no,  I  mean  that  he  didn't  give  me  his 
hand !  Keep  it,  sir.  No  doubt  it's  a  very  clean, 
white  hand.  I  wonder  if  your  heart  is  in  harmony 
with  it  ?  Rich  and  lazy  —  lazy  and  rich  !  "  She 
had  combed  her  hair  back,  and  stood  looking  like 
a  snow-white  statue  in  her  dainty  tiring-gown,  so 
faultlessly  fitting,  so  richly  bedight,  a  marvel  of 
loveliness  to  be  tucked  away  in  as  snow-white 
a  bed.  Doubtless  she  was  not  quite  as  ready  with 
her  prayers,  as  she  knelt  down.  In  the  flawless 
tissue  of  her  imagination  she  now  found  rents  and 
jagged  holes.  She  wished  she  had  never  known 
Russell  Stacey.  Why  had  he  come  into  her  life 
with  his  beauty  and  his  indolence  ? 

"  If  it  was  in  him  —  if  he  was  the  man  he  ought 
to  be,"  she  said,  as  she  laid  her  pretty,  girlish 
head  on  the  pillow,  "he  would  do  his  duty  for 
God's  sake,  for  humanity's  sake,  not  for  the  sake 
of  a  mere  woman." 

"But  he  loves  you!"- said  a  still,  small  voice 
from  the  interior  of  the  temple. 

"  I  don't  care,"  was  the  fierce  rejoinder.  "  Let 
him  go  elsewhere  with  his  love.  I  know  what 
I  shall  do  —  to-morrow.  It  will  be  terrible  !  It 
will  be  awful !  but  I  am  not  to  be  turned  from  my 
life's  work.  I  shall  speak  to  papa  !  " 


WHAT    THE    BANKER   THOUGHT  6$ 


CHAPTER   X 

WHAT   THE   BANKER   THOUGHT 

The  stout  heart  wins  the  victory 

"  CAN  I  see  you  a  few  moments  alone,  papa  ? " 
his  daughter  asked  timidly,  when  her  father  came 
home  from  the  bank  one  day,  some  time  after  her 
rejection  of  Russell  Stacey. 

Her  heart  almost  failed  her ;  but  she  had  prayed, 
oh,  such  piteous,  fervent  prayers,  to  bear  all  that 
might  come,  —  scorn,  contempt,  even  blasphemy  ; 
for  her  father  was  not  choice  in  his  selection  of 
words  when  in  anger. 

"  He  will  threaten  me  !  he  will  disown  me  ! 
perhaps  he  will  —  even  shake  me  !  "  she  said  to  her- 
self before  she  spoke  to  him.  "  Even  a  gentleman 
sometimes  forgets  himself  when  he  is  very  angry. 
Well,  I  must  be  strong,  brave,  daring,  heroic !  I 
love  what  I  have  chosen,  and  I  would  make  no 
brave  soldier  if  I  could  not  bear  persecution." 

So  she  asked  for  an  interview. 

"  Certainly  ;  you  may  have  the  whole  evening," 
he  said.  "I  don't  think  any  one  will  come  in." 

It  was  raining ;  and  the  fierce  wind  rattled  the 
well-braced  windows,  and  moaned  and  sobbed  as  it 


66  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

went,  a  wailing,  groaning,  maddened  spirit  down 
the  street. 

Miss  Stanley  had  made  several  visits  to  Para- 
dise Flats.  She  had  fallen  in  love  anew  with  the 
beautiful  little  Sebastian,  and  had  been  shocked 
by  the  mingled  evil  and  good  in  Sebastian  the 
elder.  She  had  added  great  bundles  of  petti- 
coats, gowns,  and  aprons  to  Reine's  wardrobe,  so 
pathetically  meagre,  till  the  little  woman,  who  had 
borne  in  her  heart  a  long  pent  up  but  very  inno- 
cent vanity,  really  began  to  take  pride  in  her 
pretty  face,  and  to  hope,  now  that  Sebastian  saw 
her  at  an  advantage,  he  might,  for  her  sake  and 
for  the  baby's  sake,  reform. 

As  for  him,  he  went  on  in  the  old  fashion, 
sometimes  violently  tender,  at  times  obdurate  as 
iron.  He  still  in  his  drunken  moods  painted  im- 
aginary pictures,  and  held  countless  and  imposing 
receptions  at  which  his  wife  was  forced  to  assist. 
These  were  grewsome  occasions  to  her.  Yet  in 
the  midst  of  all  this  lavishness  of  sentiment  and 
supposition  of  generosity,  he  still  made  pictures 
on  the  pavements,  full  of  a  rude  beauty  and  vital- 
ity, but  in  reality  plagiarisms  of  the  real  thing, 
the  underlying  but  abused  talent,  that  might  have 
made  him  fit  to  stand  before  kings. 

Reine  still  washed  and  ironed  and  sang  over 
the  wash-tub;  but  Miss  Stanley  had  found  her 
better  work,  and  she  bent  over  the  finest  laces, 
the  daintiest  linen,  for  which  she  received  boun- 


WHAT   THE    BANKER    THOUGHT  6/ 

teous  payment.  She  was  a  loving  little  soul,  and 
worshipped  goodness  and  beauty  in  the  person  of 
her  benefactress ;  while  Sebastian  the  younger, 
in  his  pretty  frilled  dresses,  slept  in  the  monster 
clothes  basket,  a  model  of  infantile  beauty  —  beauty 
such  as  it  would  be  no  sin  to  worship.  The  large 
eyes  of  the  child  seemed  to  look  out  of  a  heaven 
within  into  a  heaven  beyond ;  for  though  born  in 
a  cellar,  as  One  of  old  was 'born  in  a  manger,  his 
heritage  might  have  been  that  of  princes,  his  line- 
age also,  if  commensurate  with  his  dower  of  per- 
sonal loveliness.  Angelic  in  beauty,  he  was  also 
blessed  with  heavenly  sweetness  of  disposition ; 
and  to  see  him  smile,  and  slowly  turn  away  the 
lustrous  eyes  towards  something  which  no  one 
saw  but  himself,  was  simply  beatific,  or,  as  Miss 
Stanley  said,  ravishing.  That  Bassett  baby  had 
stolen  away  her  heart ;  and  her  dream  of  with- 
drawal from  the  hurly-burly  of  the  world  was  very 
much  quickened  and  brightened  by  the  coveted  as- 
sociation with  the  wonderful  child,  Sebastian  Junior. 

But  to  return  to  the  banker's  reply. 

As  he  had  anticipated,  nobody  had  come  in 
when  Miss  Stanley  made  her  appearance.  The 
storm  still  muttered  and  raved  and  shrieked ;  but 
the  soft  lights  and  shadows  of  the  banker's  study, 
the  draperies  so  warm  in  tone,  the  red  of  the  coal 
fire,  the  gleam  of  costly  marble,  intensified  the 
comfort  of  its  occupants,  and  made  the  tempest  of 
winds  and  waters  outside  a  rose-colored  myth. 


68  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Papa,"  said  Miss  Stanley  softly ;  and  inwardly 
she  trembled  so  that  her  voice  was  unsteady,  and 
for  a  moment  she  could  go  no  further. 

"  I  am  all  attention,"  her  father  graciously  said, 
carefully  filling  the  bowl  of  his  amber  pipe,  which 
in  the  softened  radiance  of  the  room  looked  like 
old  ivory  fancifully  carved. 

The  banker  was  a  tall  man,  and  inclined  to  cor- 
pulency. Handsome  too ;  but  he  had  long  ago 
buried  the  joys  of  the  past  with  his  dead  loves, 
and  business  was  stamped  upon  his  comfortable 
figure  and  regular  features.  Of  the  earth  earthy, 
he  lived  but  for  the  accumulation  of  money.  All 
sorrow  over  lost  opportunities,  all  pleasure  over 
vanished  joys,  were  gone.  The  far-off  time  when 
he  loved  the  common  pleasures  of  life  seemed  to 
him  another  age.  He  was  essentially  the  succes- 
ful  man  of  to-day. 

"  Papa,  perhaps  you  know  why  I  came  to-night 
—  you"  -  and  here  she  faltered  again. 

"  State  it  in  a  business  way,  my  dear ;  I  don't 
think  it's  money,  because  I  paid  you  your  allow- 
ance yesterday." 

"  Oh,  no,  papa !  you  have  always  been  most  gen- 
erous. But  you  know  what  my  dearest  wish  has 
long  been,  and  that  I  love  "  — 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right !  "  was  the  quick,  cheerful 
response.  "  I  told  Russell  Stacey  to  go  ahead. 
He's  a  fine  fellow !  a  very  fine  fellow  —  for  one 
so  wealthy  as  he  is,"  he  added,  carefully  lighting 


WHAT    THE    BANKER    THOUGHT  69 

the  costly  pipe.  "  It  is  in  every  way  most  grati- 
fying to  me,  and  I  am  indeed  glad  "  — 

"  O  papa !  "  came  the  response,  in  a  voice  so 
shrill  that  the  banker  actually  started.  "  How 
could  you  think !  how  can  you  say  such  words 
to  me  ?  Why,  I  have  refused  Russell  Stacey  — 
refused  him  in  such  a  way  that  he  knows  what  I 
mean." 

"  What !  refused  him  !  refused  Russell  Stacey, 
a  man  I  love  as  if  he  were  my  own  son  !  Why 
under  heaven  did  you  refuse  him  ?  What  does 
he  lack  ?  He's  the  handsomest  man  living,  ac- 
complished in  every  way,  as  wealthy  as  a  prince, 
and  as  good  as  a  priest.  Why,  he's  the  pick  of 
creation  —  and  you  refused  him  !  " 

"  I  don't  love  him,  papa,"  the  girl  said  drearily. 
"I  don't  love  any  one  but  you."  And  then,  rap- 
idly, without  any  circumlocution,  but  in  a  way 
that  befitted  the  daughter  of  a  business  man,  she 
stated  her  views,  her  desires,  and  decision. 

"  Great  God  !  "  was  all  the  banker  said  for  some 
moments  ;  and  then  there  was  silence,  she  waiting 
for  the  vials  of  wrath  to  be  uncorked,  and  poured 
upon  her  defenceless  head.  But  he  had  laid  the 
plan  of  his  campaign ;  and  though  the  man's  nat- 
ural wrath  was  stirred  even  to  vindictive  speech, 
he  controlled  himself,  and  after  a  while  spoke  in 
his  usual  tones,  — 

"  This  is  your  coveted  vocation,  and  your  set- 
tled determination,  is  it  ? "  he  asked ;  and  just  then 


7O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

a  gust  of  wind  struck  the  windows  and  shook  the 
casement. 

"  Yes,  papa,"  she  answered. 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  me  ? "  he 
asked.  "  Of  course  I'm  an  old  fellow,  and  not 
worth  much  in  the  way  of  society,  but"  — 

She  hung  on  his  neck,  and  kissed  his  lips  and 
his  forehead. 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  it  —  the  very  worst,"  she 
sobbed,  the  tears  falling  thick  and  fast  ;  "  but 
dear,  dear  papa,  I  truly  can't  be  happy  unless  I 
follow  the  leadings  of  conscience.  I  must !  I 
must ! " 

"Then,  if  you  must,  I  suppose  you  must,"  he 
answered  coolly ;  "  I  believe  your  religion  sanc- 
tions the  forsaking  of  father  and  mother,  and  all 
the  dearest  ties  of  life.  Damn  religion !  say  I," 
he  went  on,  forgetting  his  role  for  a  moment. 
"  However,  we  will  talk  this  matter  over  coolly, 
and  forget  family  ties.  Take  that  seat  opposite, 
if  you  please.  Now  you  are  going  among  cut- 
throats, thieves,  drunkards,  and  abandoned  women, 
you  cannot  expect  me  to  remember  the  relation- 
ship of  father  and  daughter.  If  I  understand  you, 
you  wish  to  throw  in  your  lot  with  this  ill-condi- 
tioned rabble  called  the  '  Salvation  Army.'  Very 
well ;  you  could  not,  of  course,  expect  to  go  in 
and  out  of  my  house  in  that  prison  garb,  so  you 
must  choose  a  home  among  them." 

"That  I  see  I  must  do,"  she  said,  almost  in- 


WHAT    THE    BANKER   THOUGHT  Jl 

audibly.  "  I  must  live  among  those  I  wish  to 
reclaim." 

"  Precisely.  I  hope  you  have  thought  of  that ; 
but — you  have  had  no  experience.  Luxury,  ele- 
gance, every  comfort  for  the  body  and  every  in- 
centive towards  the  growth  of  the  intellect,  soul, 
have  been  yours  all  your  life.  You  do  not  know 
the  bitterness  of  guarding  against  poverty  and 
temptation  and  sin.  However,  we  will  let  that 
all  go  —  you  have  chosen  your  lot ;  you  will  find  a 
home  elsewhere." 

"  A  little  room,  father,"  she  said  tremblingly, 
"like  the  one  Ensign  Harry  has,  in  the  same 
house  with  her." 

"  Ensign  Harry ! "  he  reiterated,  a  touch  of 
scorn  in  his  voice.  "  Who  is  Ensign  Harry  ? 
You  said  her.11 

"  A  true  and  good  woman,  father,  who  left  a 
comfortable  home  in  England  and  a  faithful  lover, 
and  has  never  regretted  it." 

"  Very  possibly.  I  never  heard  that  King  Lear's 
daughters  repented — well,  go  to  Ensign  Harry. 
Perhaps  she  can  fill  my  place  better." 

"  Father  !  "  she  entreated. 

"  You  were  talking  of  where  you  would  live," 
he  went  on.  "  You  have  chosen  a  hard  taskmas- 
ter, who  will  not  be  so  liberal  as  your  old  father. 
Let  me  see,  what  is  your  monthly  allowance 
now?" 

"  One  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,"  she  told  him. 


72  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  I  will  increase  it.  You  shall  not  go  roaming 
the  miserable  streets  down  by  the  docks  penni- 
less. You  shall  have  two  hundred  dollars  a  month 
for  your  expenses." 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  papa,  I  should  be  quite  con- 
tent with  less.  My  personal  expenses  will  be 
very  small,"  she  said,  tears  in  her  voice. 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  it  —  remem- 
ber that,  however  far,  however  willingly, you  leave 
your  home,  you  will  still  be  my  daughter.  Some 
men  would  cast  you  off,  or —  or  put  you  in  irons," 
he  supplemented  between  his  teeth.  "  I  am  go- 
ing to  let  you  see  for  yourself;  but  you  sha'n't 
go  empty-handed." 

"  O  father  !  I  expected  nothing,"  she  sobbed. 

"  Then  you  didn't  know  me,  that's  all,"  he  said 
bluntly.  "  I  suppose,  as  I  have  had  to  be  father 
and  mother  both,  the  feminine  element  comes 
uppermost,"  he  added.  "  I  wish  to  Heaven  your 
mother  had  lived ! "  he  went  on  almost  testily ; 
"then  there  would  have  been  none  of  this  devilish 
nonsense." 

"  I  think  it  would  have  been  her  wish,  father ; 
she  was  so  good  and  generous  and  religious  !  " 

The  banker  cleared  his  throat,  for  another  an- 
athema was  very  near  his  lips.  "  We  are  not  talk- 
ing of  sentiment  now,"  he  said  gravely ;  "  there 
must  be  sense  and  reflection  in  what  we  say  and 
do.  You  wish  to  leave  me,  Molly,"  he  went  on, 
lifting  his  finger,  for  Molly  was  about  to  speak 


WHAT    THE    BANKER    THOUGHT  73 

again  ;  "  in  any  case,  you  would  probably  have 
left  me  sooner  or  later.  If  you  had  married 
Russell  Stacey,  you  would  have  gone  away  with 
him.  I  should  at  once  have  installed  your  Cousin 
Lucy  in  your  place  (as  I  shall  do  now),  and  given 
her  a  chance.  She  is  pretty,  vivacious,  and  am- 
bitious ;  and  I  am  very  fond  of  her.  I  think  she 
likes  me.  At  all  events,  I  shall  secure  some  one 
to  keep  me  company,  to  pour  out  the  tea,  and  or- 
der the  toast.  As  to  your  private  belongings  in 
the  matter  of  dress  and  jewels,  dispose  of  them 
as  you  will.  I  shall  dress  your  cousin  well,  and 
make  her  very  welcome.  Of  course  you  will  be 
lost  to  society.  People  will  talk  —  out  of  my 
hearing,  for  I  should  break  their  heads  otherwise. 
So  you  see  I  am  resigned.  You  can  don  your 
poke-bonnet  and  your  linsey-woolsey  at  the  earli- 
est opportunity.  I  shall  never  witness  the  trans- 
formation. Whenever  you  see  fit  to  renounce 
your  mad  scheme,  the  doors  of  my  house  will  be 
open  to  you." 

"But,  father — may  I  not  come  to  see  you 
sometimes  ? "  she  pleaded  tearfully,  timidly. 

"  Not  until  you  can  come  to  me  clothed  and  in 
your  right  mind,"  he  said,  putting  aside  his  pipe, 
a  hint  that  the  conference  was  over ;  and  Miss 
Stanley  crept  from  the  study,  and  sought  her  own 
room,  disappointed,  and  sad  and  sore  of  heart,  a 
very  crestfallen  heroine,  although  her  wish  was 
granted. 


74  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

She  had  expected  threats,  vituperation,  persecu- 
tion,—  any  of  which  would  have  roused  in  her  the 
spirit  of  a  fighting  ancestry  and  the  longing  for 
self-sacrifice.  Now  she  did  not  feel  in  the  least 
heroic ;  neither  did  she  understand  her  father. 
She  had  not  thought  he  would  be  so  willing  to 
part  with  her  —  coolly  to  pension  her  off,  and  ad- 
vise her  in  a  business-like  way.  And  then  the 
natural — "No,"  she  said  chokingly,  "««natural" 
—  way  in  which  he  talked  of  Lucy,  so  very  much 
more  beautiful  than  she,  the  worldly  cousin  who 
was  to  inherit  all  she  was  to  lose  —  how  could  she 
bear  it  ?  The  homely,  everyday  duties  at  the 
table,  in  the  reception-room  —  and  she  whose 
right  it  was,  ignored.  Never  had  she  looked  for 
such  an  ending,  so  tame,  so  unutterably  strange. 
Not  that  she  wavered  for  a  moment  in  the  pur- 
suance of  her  design ;  but  it  would  have  been 
grand  to  go  to  the  Army  as  a  soldier  enlisted 
under  the  most  trying  and  difficult  circumstances. 
Instead  of  this,  her  father  had  coolly  renounced 
her  as  if  it  was  no  matter  of  interest  to  him,  she 
who  had  lived  in  his  sight  for  eighteen  long  years, 
had  been  as  the  apple  of  his  eye,  worshipped,  con- 
sulted, deferred  to.  Her  life  had  been  all  pleas- 
ure ;  she  was  simply  tired  of  adulation  and  the 
bonds  of  social  life  in  a  fashionable  circle.  That 
was  not  hard  to  leave,  but  she  had  not  dreamed 
that  her  father  would  acquiesce  in  her  plans. 
Could  she  have  seen  him  after  she  had  left  him, 


WHAT    THE    BANKER    THOUGHT  /$ 

inert,  with  a  colorless  face,  upon  which  were 
drawn  the  lines  of  mental  anguish,  her  heart  would 
have  gone  out  to  him,  even,  perhaps,  to  the  extent 
of  saying,  "  My  duty  lies  at  home,  though  my  in- 
clination wanders."  But  now  the  final  step  was 
taken.  She  was  too  proud  to  acknowledge  even 
to  herself  how  hurt  and  disappointed  she  was. 


76  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XI 

PREPARATIONS 

And  the  voice  of  a  sweet-toned  violin 
Stole  on  the  air. 

"THEN  you  carried  out  your  plan?" 

"To  the  bitter  end." 

"  And  she  has  gone?" 

"No;  not  yet." 

The  speakers  were  Russell  Stacey  and  Banker 
Stanley  ;  the  time  a  week  after  Miss  Stanley  had 
been  closeted  with  her  father  in  the  study. 

"  How  could  you  do  it  ? " 

Stacey  had  perhaps  been  studying  the  forma- 
tion of  his  hat.  He  held  it  in  his  hand,  and  looked 
it  over  with  languid  interest.  His  beauty  had  in 
some  way  suffered  a  change.  There  was  a  rest- 
lessness in  his  manner,  a  heaviness  about  the 
eyes,  that  were  not  the  result  of  late  hours  or 
venal  orgies. 

"Because  I  could  not  help  myself.  If  we  were 
good  Catholics,  and  my  daughter  would  go  to  a 
nunnery,  what  could  I  do  but  consent  ?  Marriage 
would  be  better,  but  in  either  case  I  lose  her. 
But  I  confess  I  never  lost  so  much  sleep  in  my 


PREPARATIONS  77 

life  as  in  the  past  few  weeks.  What  will  it  be 
when  she  is  gone  ?  " 

"Gone?"  and  young  Stacey  lifted  his  heavy, 
pathetic  eyes.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  she 
is  going  away  !" 

"Do  you  imagine  for  a  moment  that  I  am  going 
to  make  my  house  headquarters  for  the  Salvation 
Army?"  asked  the  banker. 

"  I  imagine  anything,  everything,  but  that  she 
should  go  away.  In  Heaven's  name,  where  will 
she  go  ? " 

"Oh,  somewhere  down  in  the  slums ;  she  seems 
to  gravitate  in  that  direction.  She  is  making  ar- 
rangements to  obtain  a  room  in  Paradise  Flats. 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  place  ?  " 

"Never  in  all  my  life,"  was  the  reply.  "For 
God's  sake,  will  nothing  deter  her  ? " 

"Neither  your  love,  it  seems,  nor  mine,"  was 
the  quiet  answer.  "  She  comes  of  a  race  that 
never  turned  back  when  once  the  resolve  was 
made.  Bless  your  soul !  my  people  were  all  born 
in  Massachusetts,  where  the  stones  are  not  harder 
nor  the  rocks  more  adamantine  than  the  will  of 
those  who  plough  the  small  triangles  and  cultivate 
the  sterile  earth  till  its  very  granite  blooms  to 
roses.  Oh,  no !  let  her  '  gang  her  ain  gait.'  I 
believe  she  will  come  to  her  senses  the  sooner." 

"  What  will  the  world  say  ?  " 

"  The  world  cannot  say  that  I  am  a  hard  and 
cruel  parent,  as  it  would  be  sure  to  do  if,  in  her 


78  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

disappointment  at  my  refusal  to  allow  her  to  do 
what  she  considers  her  life-work,  she  should  pine 
away  and  die.  I  shall  treat  the  matter  simply  as 
a  freak  on  her  part  and  a  liberal  indulgence  on 
my  own." 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  to  trust  her  among  those 
loathsome  dens?  The  very  idea  is  monstrous!" 
said  the  young  fellow,  rising  and  pacing  the  floor, 
his  whole  soul  in  a  tumult. 

"Yes,  the  idea  is  monstrous;  there's  no  ques- 
tion there.  But  she  is  infatuated  with  the  work ; 
and  you  might  reason  with  her  from  now  to  Christ- 
mas —  she  would  still  stand  to  her  decision.  It 
has  grown  with  her  growth.  Her  mother  was 
very  religious,  almost  fanatical  in  her  views,  before 
Molly  was  born  ;  and  she  seemed  to  have  an  in- 
sight into  the  soul  of  things  in  the  future,  —  to 
dread  conflict  or  persecution, — or  she  would  hardly 
have  extracted  a  promise  from  me  that  I  would 
not  interfere  with  Molly's  convictions.  Well,"  he 
added,  after  a  long-drawn  sigh,  "  we  will  see  who 
is  the  wisest.  I  prophesy  that  inside  of  a  year 
Molly  will  come  quietly  home,  and  give  up  the 
whole  business.  Meantime,  nothing  is  going  to 
harm  her  that  I  can  see.  The  badge  and  dress 
will  of  themselves  be  a  bar  against  evil  designs, 
and  I  shall  have  some  one  on  the  watch  to  see 
that  she  is  protected.  Besides,  Molly  is  well  able 
to  take  care  of  herself.  I  have  given  up  the  idea 
that  women  are  exotics,  and  must  be  tended  and 


PREPARATIONS  79 

dandled.  Women  do  the  work  of  men  nowadays, 
and  perhaps  "  — 

He  held  up  his  hand.  Away  off,  perhaps  the 
distance  of  two  or  three  blocks,  came  the  faint 
notes  of  cornet,  fife,  and  drum.  Away  off,  wind- 
ing among  the  many  vehicles  passing  to  and  fro, 
they  were  on  their  way,  that  devoted  little  band 
of  Christ's  Army,  marching  to  the  lanes  and  by- 
ways, in  obedience  to  their  great  Leader's  com- 
mand. Many  a  little  child  paused  in  his  work  or 
play  at  the  gutter,  many  a  blear-eyed  drunkard 
stopped',  moved  to  derisive  and  maudlin  laughter, 
many  a  dainty  young  girl  smiled  at  the  quaint 
garments  of  girls  'as  young  as  themselves  ;  but 
on  they  went,  the  soldiers  of  the  Lord,  looking 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left  —  and  the 
banker  and  the  young  rich  disciple  of  wealth  and 
self  listened  in  silence.  Then  they  faced  each 
other. 

"  I  swear  I'll  do  something  to  rescue  her  —  at 
least  to  save  her  from  the  derision  of  the  idle 
crowd  !  "  exclaimed  young  Stacey,  stopping  his 
restless  walk ;  and  his  voice  was  as  though  tears 
vibrated  through  it.  The  young  fellow  was  in 
love,  deeply  in  love,  and  for  all  time.  Not  with 
the  violet  eyes,  the  quick  dimples,  and  the  skin 
like  mingled  roses  and  snow,  but  with  the  real, 
vital  self  of  the  girl,  the  soul  that  he  saw  was  so 
noble,  generous,  and  world-denying. 

"By  Jove!  there  isn't  another  girl  in  the  whole 


8O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

city,  no,  nor  in  the  whole  world,  like  her!"  he  said 
to  himself.  "  I  dare  not  intrude  even  in  thought 
at  the  altar  where  she  kneels.  She  seems  to  me 
so  far  above  ordinary  mortals,  and  did  from  the 
first  moment  I  looked  into  her  lovely  eyes,  that 
the  very  thought  of  her  lifts  me  above  myself. 
But  —  strange,  strange  !  such  an  infatuation  !  I 
cannot  bear  the  thought  that  her  name  will  be 
bandied  from  mouth  to  mouth  by  these  fashion- 
able —  fools  !  "  he  bit  his  lips. 

At  that  moment  came  a  sweet,  clear  voice  and 
the  sound  of  a  violin  just  under  the  window.  The 
singular  purity  of  the  instrumental  tones  aston- 
ished him.  The  voice  was  simply  a  thin  soprano, 
capable  of  better  work  if  thoroughly  trained ;  but 
the  strings  of  the  exquisite  instrument  vibrated 
as  if  the  impassioned  language  of  a  human  soul 
were  striving  for  articulation. 

Being  himself  a  fair  performer  on  the  violin, 
the  music  naturally  attracted  him.  He  bade 
good-morning  to  the  banker,  who  sat  cross-legged, 
plunged  in  thought,  and  smoking  like  a  furnace, 
and  in  another  moment  stood  on  the  doorsteps 
facing  the  square  opposite. 

The  blossoms  visible  from  the  grounds  be- 
yond were  all  in  a  quiver  in  the  soft,  warm  wind. 
Touches  of  local  color  made  the  place  resemble 
a  well-kept  garden;  and  Russell  Stacey,  to  whom 
every  sight  of  beauty  was  a  revelation,  turned  his 
eyes  admiringly  to  the  girl's  face. 


PREPARATIONS  8 1 

"  Spanish  eyes  !  "  he  muttered,  "  or  Italian. 
Great  heavens !  when  have  I  heard  a  violin  like 
that  before  ?  —  and  in  the  hands  of  a  child.  She 
don't  play  badly,  either  ;  there's  the  trick  of  ge- 
nius in  the  way  she  handles  that  bow.  Some  poor 
little  waif  !  " 

His  hand  was  in  his  pocket,  and  closed  on  a 
stray  dollar.  Never  before  had  he  spoken  to  the 
canaille,  but  now  the  influence  of  Molly's  self- 
sacrificing  spirit  prompted  him. 

"  How  long  have  you  played,  my  little  girl  ? " 
he  asked.  He  loved  children. 

"  Almost  ever  since  mother  died,"  was  the  re- 
sponse ;  and  the  bow  rested  idly  in  her  hand  as  she 
turned  her  glorious  eyes  to  him. 

He  looked  up  and  down  the  street.  Nobody 
was  coming. 

"  That's  a  very  sweet-toned  violin,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  was  my  father's,  and  my  grand- 
father's before  him  ;  it  is  very  old,"  and  she  sur- 
veyed it  with  tender  interest. 

"  Why  don't  you  sell  it,  child  ?  Maybe  I  could 
get  you  a  good  round  sum  for  it ; "  and  Russell 
Stacey  held  out  hands  of  appropriation.  He  only 
wanted  to  look  at  it. 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  "  and  the  girl  held  the  instrument 
closer,  fairly  hugging  it.  "  I  wouldn't  sell  it  for 
a  thousand  dollars.  It  was  all  my  poor  father 
left  me." 

"  Wouldn't  sell  it  for  a  thousand,  eh  ?     Well, 


82  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

you  are  a  miser  !  Starving,  I'll  be  bound,"  he 
muttered,  "  and  a  fortune  in  your  hands." 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?  "  was  the  next  question. 

"  In  Paradise  Flats,  sir,  down  in  Mulberry 
Street." 

A  start  betrayed  his  newly  awakened  interest. 
So  here  was  one  of  the  tenants  of  Paradise  Flats  ! 
He  felt  a  new,  intense  interest  in  the  strolling 
waif,  and  was  on  the  point  of  questioning  her 
further,  when  a  well-known  voice  fell  on  his  ear, — 

"  Why,  little  Nan  !  how  long  have  you  been 
here  ? " 

It  was  like  a  "  stand  aside  "  to  Stacey.  It  did 
not  need  a  sight  of  the  exquisite  oval  of  her  cheek, 
faintly  suffused  with  pink,  the  soft  light  of  her 
violet  eyes,  the  pretty  feather  in  the  pretty  hat,  to 
tell  him  who  stood  there. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Stanley,"  he  said  icily, 
his  voice  choked  and  deadened. 

"I  —  I  wish  you  good-morning,"  she  said  ;  and 
he  walked  away,  his  head  high  in  the  air,  as  a 
rejected  lover  should.  But  what  an  ache  there 
was  in  his  heart  ! 

Nan  fingered  the  dollar;  for  he  had  slid  the 
silver  into  her  hand  in  passing. 

"  Look  what  the  generous  gentleman  gave  me," 
she  said.  Her  lustrous,  iridescent  eyes,  full  of 
changing  lights,  smiled  into  Molly's. 

"  Yes,  it  was  very  kind  of  him,"  said  Molly, 
a  little  absently,  "very." 


PREPARATIONS  83 

"  He  wanted  me  to  sell  this  ;"  and  the  girl  lifted 
the  instrument  that  shone  in  spots  with  the  bright- 
ness of  mother-of-pearl  when  the  sun  struck  it. 
"  I  couldn't,  you  know,"  and  her  voice  choked ; 
"  Oh,  no,  no,  I  couldn't !  " 

"  You  needn't,  Nanny.  Did  you  bring  anything 
for  me  ? "  asked  Miss  Stanley. 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  please  excuse  me,  Miss,  it's  a  note 
from  Ensign  Harry." 

"  All  right.  And  now  come  in,  and  let's  see  if 
the  cook  has  something  for  you.  I  saw  her  baking 
turnovers  last  night,  and  you  needn't  sing  any 
more  to-day  unless  you  like.  A  dollar  will  keep 
you  a  long  time." 

"  Yes,  Miss,"  said  Nan,  all  the  child  in  her 
alive  at  the  mention  of  the  turnovers. 

Nanny  was  settled  in  the  kitchen  with  the  cook, 
a  bright,  cheerful  woman,  weighing  something 
near  three  hundred  pounds  ;  and  Miss  Stanley  ran 
up-stairs  to  read  her  note.  Her  father  had  gone 
to  the  bank,  the  maids  were  loitering  a  little  over 
their  work ;  but  Sally,  Miss  Stanley's  own  maid, 
was  crying. 

"  Tears  again  ! "  said  Miss  Stanley.  "  I'm 
ashamed  of  you,  Sally." 

"  I  only  wish  you  would  take  me  with  you, 
Miss,"  sobbed  the  girl. 

"What  shall  I  want  with  a  maid?"  Miss 
Stanley  was  briskly  moving  from  place  to  place. 
"  No,  no,  Sally ;  you'll  be  much  better  off  to  stay 


84  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

where  you  are.  You  will  like  the  cousin  who  is 
coming  to  take  my  place.  She's  a  little  quick- 
tempered, but  very  kind-hearted." 

"  But  mayn't  I  come  to  see  you  sometimes  ? " 
pleaded  Sally. 

"That's  for  after  consideration,"  said  Miss 
Stanley  ;  "  perhaps  you  may."  Then  she  read  the 
quaintly  folded  little  note  that  Nanny  Gartia  had 
given  her. 

DEAR  Miss  STANLEY  [it  said],  everything  is  arranged.  I 
found  some  difficulty  in  getting  the  room  next  to  mine ;  but 
as  you  said  no  matter  about  the  price,  I  engaged  it.  So,  as 
soon  as  it  is  furnished,  I  shall  expect  you.  The  bonnet  and 
gray  dress  finished.  Will  be  here  this  afternoon.  Yours 
for  the  Army,  ENSIGN  HARRY. 


STACEY'S  DECISION  85 


CHAPTER   XII 
STACEY'S  DECISION 

All  desperate  hazards  courage  do  create. 

RUSSELL  STAGEY  wended  his  way  to  the  hotel, 
where  one  of  the  pleasantest  and  most  spacious 
suites  of  rooms  in  the  building  had  been  his  bach- 
elor home  for  the  last  five  years.  He  was  a  sin- 
gularly solitary  man  socially,  and  had  been  since 
the  death  of  his  father,  from  whom  he  inherited 
his  millions.  In  mental  texture  he  was  superior 
to  most  of  his  companions  ;  his  native  ability  had 
been  aided  and  colored  by  a  good  university  edu- 
cation. He  had  taken  the  degree  of  doctor  of 
medicine,  and  had  shown  considerable  interest  in 
the  profession.  In  fact,  he  was  born  for  a  doctor ; 
though  he  would  not  practise,  chiefly  for  the  rea- 
son that  he  liked  his  own  comfort  too  well.  Per- 
haps the  real  Saxon  word  for  "  comfort "  was 
"  laziness."  He  coveted  luxury  and  ease,  cared 
for  society  only  in  a  perfunctory  way,  but  pre- 
ferred his  own  delightful  fireside,  where  almost  all 
the  year  round  a  wood  fire  shook  its  red  flags,  and 
sent  out  its  rays  of  color  to  glorify  the  room. 
And  the  room  was  a  glory  of  itself,  a  spacious 


86  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

art-treasury,  upholstered  in  the  most  expensive 
fashion,  with  satin-lined  draperies  the  color  of 
gold.  Most  of  his  furniture  had  been  purchased 
abroad,  and  nearly  all  his  pictures.  There  were 
quaint  spider-legged  tables,  and  chairs  so  fragile 
in  appearance  that  it  seemed  as  if  a  child  might 
crush  them,  yet  which  were  built  of  copper,  iron, 
and  brass.  Easy-chairs  of  almost  every  color  and 
description  stood  in  alcoves  and '  various  other 
places  designed  for  them.  Silver  and  gold  can- 
delabra of  curious  shapes  adorned  niches  full  of 
fragrance,  for  one  of  his  weaknesses  was  the  love 
of  flowers ;  though,  perhaps,  I  should  not  call  it  a 
weakness,  but  rather  a  pleasant  dissipation  which 
he  cultivated  for  the  love  of  it. 

"  She'll  miss  the  flowers  I  used  to  send  her,  — 
but  —  great  Jove  !  "  and  he  stood  like  one  dazed, 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  Jacko.  If  ever 
there  was  a  creature  of  the  cat  species  that  was 
born  for  luxury,  Jacko  was  that  cat.  Of  immense 
size  and  great  beauty,  no  lounging-place  was  too 
sacred,  no  dish  too  luxurious,  for  his  indulgence. 
At  that  moment  the  cat  rose  with  great  dignity, 
and  turned  his  yellow-brown,  velvety  eyes  toward 
him.  He  always  expected  and  waited  for  a  caress. 

"  Well,  Jacko,"  his  master  said,  patting  the 
sleek  sides,  "  we  two  old  cronies  must  make  much 
of  each  other.  I've  often  talked  to  you  about 
your  new  mistress,  Jacko ;  and  I  beg  your  pardon 


STACEY'S  DECISION  87 

for  having  misled  you.  What  would  you  do  about 
it,  Jacko?  Suppose  your  lady-love  rejected  you?" 

Jacko's  prolonged  purr  sounded  so  much  like 
"  Don't  give  her  up,"  that  Stacey  started. 

Again  he  listened. 

"  Don't  give  her  up,"  came  in  distinct,  if  na- 
sal music,  through  Jacko's  whiskers ;  and  the  cat 
winked,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  understand  you 
perfectly,  old  fellow  ;  "  and  then  followed,  in  un- 
mistakable cat-English,  "  Don't  give  her  up  !  " 

"  Well,  by  Jove,  that's  curious  ! "  said  Stacey, 
"exactly  my  sentiments."  He  sat  down,  his  eyes 
on  the  cat.  "  Why  should  I  give  her  up  ?  What 
would  you  do,  Jack  ?  Go  to  Europe  ? " 

"  Go  to  Europe,"  purred  Jacko  sonorously. 

"  Then  come  back  and  fight  it  out  ?  " 

"  Fight  it  out !  "  came  in  sounding  purrs ;  and  if 
ever  there  was  a  cat-smile,  it  curled  Jacko's  lips 
at  that  moment,  although  the  intelligent  creature 
meant  it  for  a  yawn. 

"  Yes,  and  on  her  own  ground  !  Heavens,  why 
didn't  I  think  of  that  before  ?  That  I  should  be 
taught  wisdom  by  a  cat  !  It's  as  clear  as  bees- 
wax, the  longer  I  reflect.  Jacko,  you  shall  lap 
milk  out  of  a  golden  saucer  if  I  succeed.  Milk  ? 
no,  by  Jove,  cream,  the  best !  The  map  gradually 
unrolls,  the  lines  become  clearer.  I  needn't  give 
up  the  rooms.  Bartlett  wants  them  ;  and  he  shall 
have  them  at  his  own  price,  if  he  will  take  care  of 
my  cat.  I  owe  my  life  to  you,  Jacko,  perhaps  my 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

reason.  No  wonder  you  wink,  old  fellow.  You'd 
laugh  if  you  could,  a  genuine  haw  !  haw  !  as  I  do. 
Bartlett  will  smoke  everything  ivory-yellow  or 
Spanish  brown,  but  that  doesn't  trouble  me  ;  I've 
thought  out  the  whole  plot." 

He  went  to  the  mirror  and  surveyed  himself. 

"  A  wig,  by  Jove,  and  blue  glasses,  with  a  pair 
of  side-whiskers,  will  do  it.  I'll  put  myself  on  the 
list  with  her  penitents,  only  I'll  outrank  them  all. 
Gad,  what  a  bright  idea  !  Jacko,  my  beauty,  when 
you  die,  you  shall  have  a  monument ! 

"  Slouch  hat,  loose  trousers,  a  working-man's 
outfit  complete.  Or  a  poor  lost  devil  who  doesn't 
know  where  to  look  for  his  next  crust,  a  way- 
down  tramp  without  buttons  —  no,  I  couldn't  go 
that.  A  good  sort  of  a  fellow,  with  doubts  as 
to  the  being  of  a  God,  —  or  —  or  —  a  pessimist  — 
or  leaning  to  dynamite.  Not  that  either.  A  re- 
duced gentleman,  for  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  can  culti- 
vate the  vernacular  of  the  slums  ;  it  will  be  as 
much  as  I  can  do  to  live  in  them. 

"  A  room  scantily  furnished,  a  few  books,  a  pre- 
tence of  wretchedness,  yet  trying  to  be  jolly  like 
the  late  lamented  Mark  Tapley,  with  my  fiddle 
and  flute  for  company.  Well,  here's  richness  ! 
Do  you  approve,  Jack  ?  " 

Jacko  perched  himself  complacently  on  his  mas- 
ter's knee,  and  sent  forth  a  volumn  of  rich  exple- 
tives, patting  his  breast  approvingly  with  two 
supple,  well-padded  paws. 


STACEY'S  DECISION  89 

"  I  must  work  up  an  interest  in  the  Salvation 
Army.  Bah  !  I  hear  their  drums  and  bassons 
and  catgut  this  moment  —  begging  your  pardon, 
Jacko,  for  the  allusion.  I  know  it  must  offend 
your  gentlemanly  soul  to  think  of  what  base  uses, 
etc. 

"  No  doubt  I  shall  get  sick  of  the  life,  Jacko ;  I 
shall  miss  this  nook  of  the  Muses,  fit  reminder  of 
the  tropical  lands  I  love.  I  must  absolutely  stir 
myself  to  work.  But  if  I  can  stir  a  feeble  interest 
in  the  heart  of  that  little  saint,  my  Molly,  oh  — 
By  heaven,  the  thought  is  delirium  !  I  shall  be 
near  her,  Jacko." 

He  grew  suddenly  grave. 

"I  wonder  how  she  will  IOOK  in  a  poke  bonnet?1 
a  —  poke  —  bonnet !  No  matter.  Nothing  can 
change  that  sweet,  serious  angel's  face.  I've 
fancied  myself  in  love  a  hundred  times ;  but  this 
draws  me  out  of  myself,  enables  me  to  face  dis- 
comfort and  difficulty  —  yes,  please  God,  I  think 
I  could  die  for  Molly  ! 

"  Now,  how  shall  I  begin  ?  " 

"  Go  to  Europe,"  came  in  a  distinct,  emphatic 
series  of  purrs. 

"Yes,  exactly  ;  that  was  in  my  mind.  You're 
a  mind-reader,  Jacko.  Go  to  Europe,  to  mislead 
her  —  grow  a  pair  of  siders  there  —  it  takes  only 
a  few  weeks  ;  those  and  the  blue  spectacles  — 
why,  Jacko,  you  are  sublime  ! 

1  The  Army  has  changed  its  uniform.     No  more  poke  bonnets. 


9O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  I  believe  at  the  end  of  six  months  Molly  and 
I  will  be  reading  Emerson  together.  I  can  man- 
age the  whole  matter  with  very  little  trouble. 
Stacey  the  millionaire  gone  to  Europe.  Jack  —  if 
Jack's  the  name,  —  is  to  hold  the  fort  in  Paradise 
Flats,  night  and  day.  I  must  be  a  self-made  man 
and  no  shirker  —  or  else  —  an  unfortunate  man 
who  has  been  in  society,  lost  his  money,  and  seen 
the  folly  of  it  all.  Ah,  what  rare  fun  ! "  he  rubbed 
his  hands  together,  laughing  at  himself  —  "which- 
ever role  I  take,  a  comedy  —  not  a  comedy  of 
errors,  I  trust.  Molly  will  think  I'm  driven  out 
of  the  country  by  her  cruelty.  So  much  the  bet- 
ter. I  don't  care  what  she  thinks.  All's  fair  in 
love  and  war.  I  sha'n't  lose  touch  with  my  real 
identity,  and  I  may  gain  the  Lord  knows  what 
knowledge.  The  charms  of  this  sort  of  life  are 
illusive  ;  "who  knows  what  the  experiences  of  an 
underworld  of  character,  of  wonderful  human 
endurance,  await  me  ?  Gad !  it's  the  brightest 
thought  I  ever  had  !  I've  something  yet  to  live 
for ! " 


HOW    THE    BANKER    FELT 


CHAPTER   XIII 

HOW    THE    BANKER    FELT 
/  tell  you  it  is  hard ! 

THAT  evening  young  Stacey  called  upon  Molly's 
father,  and  announced  to  him  his  determination 
to  go  abroad,  and  his  hope  that  among  foreign 
scenes  he  might  recover  some  degree  of  his  lost 
spirits. 

"I  don't  blame  you,"  said  the  banker;  "but 
I  shall  miss  you,  young  man,"  settling  with  a  huge 
sigh  in  his  easy-chair,  and  lighting  his  pipe.  "  Per- 
haps among  all  your  friends  and  acquaintances  no 
one  will  miss  you  as  I  shall.  Your  father  was  my 
best  friend,  and  I  had  looked  for  great  things  from 
you  in  the  future.  Upon  my  soul,  I  hope  Molly 
will  never  marry — I  decline  to  receive  the  son-in- 
law  she  chooses  for  me,  in  advance ;  and  candidly, 
I  don't  think  she  is  one  of  the  marrying  kind. 
She  goes  to  her  new  home  in  Paradise  Flats  to- 
morrow. Joy  go  with  her,  say  I.  The  thing  grows 
more  and  more  ludicrous.  I  feel  like  laying  a  hand 
of  iron  upon  her,  and  swearing  that  she  shall  not. 
Why,  Russell,  by  Heaven !  the  house  will  seem  like 
a  tomb  without  her.  It  begins  to  seem  so  already. 


92  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

Her  cousin  is  here  now,  a  good  enough  girl,  as 
wild  for  the  world  as  Molly  is  dead  against  it. 
She  will  have  a  good  time,  but  it's  not  Molly. 
I  feel  as  if  I  were  going  to  her  funeral,  I  do  in- 
deed. I  could  almost  wish  it  were  so." 

"  Let  us  take  courage,"  said  young  Stacey,  with 
a  high-bred  nonchalance  that  rather  astonished 
the  banker.  "  I  have  not  yet  given  up  all  hope. 
If  Molly  does  penance  for  a  month  it  will  sur- 
prise me.  Meantime,  I  must  go  away.  I  don't 
mind  telling  you  that  I'm  hit  hard.  No  woman 
can  sharpen  her  wit  upon  me  henceforth.  I  for- 
swear womankind  forever." 

"Why  should  I  tell  him,"  he  said  to  himself, 
with  an  inward  smile,  "that  I'm  going  away  to 
grow  my  whiskers  ? " 

"  When  will  you  return  ? "  asked  the  banker. 

"  That  depends,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  can  only 
tell  you  that  when  I  do  come  back,  you  will  be  the 
first  man  I  call  upon." 

"  Right,  my  dear  fellow,"  was  the  reply,  as  the 
banker  rose,  and  gave  his  hand  a  parting  farewell 
pressure.  "  And  if  that  little  fool  don't  come  to 
her  senses  by  that  time,  I'll  disown  her,  I  will,  by 
God  — frey!" 


WHAT    CRUMP    THOUGHT  93 


CHAPTER   XIV 

WHAT    CRUMP    THOUGHT 

No  change  of  fortune's  smiles 
Can  cast  my  comfort  down. 

BABY  BASSETT,  now  five  months  old,  sat  up  in 
his  basket,  and  crowed  and  jumped  and  talked  in 
the  unknown  language  of  babyland  the  whole  day 
long.  No  wonder  Reine  thought  there  was  never, 
no,  never,  in  this  or  any  other  land,  so  wonderful 
a  child.  The  whole  house  paid  worshipful  rever- 
ence to  him.  She  herself,  as  she  stood  at  her 
work,  her  white,  shapely  arms  bared  almost  to 
the  shoulder,  her  clean  cotton  dress  draped  over 
a  brown  petticoat,  the  dim  light  revealing  a  Ma- 
donna-like face  free  from  all  traces  of  worldly 
deceit  or  inherent  vice,  looked  like  a  picture 
beside  him. 

There  was  one  who  thought  of  the  Holy  Family 
when  she  saw  them  together,  and  that  was  Molly. 

Sebastian  still  clung  to  the  bottle,  but  there 
was  a  change  in  him  for  the  better.  The  worship 
of  beauty  moves  the  world,  it  is  said ;  and  the 
baby's  beauty  was  phenomenal.  When  he  took 
him  out  to  the  upper  air,  more  cleanly  and  better 


94  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

clothed  himself  since  Molly  had  come,  the  sin- 
gular sweetness  of  the  child's  face  attracted  the 
notice  of  every  passer-by. 

"  Oh,  the  angel !  "  said  one. 

"  Where  did  ever  such  a  beauty  come  from  ? " 
was  the  next  query.  Sebastian's  heart  beat  high, 
throbbed  with  fatherly  joy,  swelled  with  fatherly 
pride.  He  would  sometimes  make  vows  to  him- 
self and  to  Reine,  who  would  say,  — 

"  Now,  you  know,  there  is  nothing  between  you 
and  greatness  but  that  miserable  drink.  Think 
of  you  living  in  a  cellar!  It  don't  so  much  mat- 
ter about  me  ;  but  oh  !  you  and  the  little  prince, 
for  I'm  sure  he  is  the  fairest  baby  that  God  ever 
gave  to  mortal  parents."  And  then  Sebastian 
would  protest,  and  kiss  the  baby,  and  kiss  his 
wife,  and  make  believe  that  they  were  in  a  palace, 
and  swear  that  he  would  never  drink  again. 

And  poor  Reine  —  she  also  was  a  little  hypo- 
crite, for  she  would  always  pretend  to  believe 
him. 

So  munificent  was  Molly  Stanley  that  Reine 
could  afford  to  stop  work  when  the  clock  struck 
one  ;  set  out  her  husband's  dinner  if  she  had  any 
dinner  to  give  him  ;  clear  up  the  cellar  room, 
and  lay  out  the  few  pretty  knick-knacks  she  had 
brought  as  her  dowry,  —  little  tidies  for  the  backs 
of  her  few  chairs,  —  and  otherwise  give  the  poor 
place  a  holiday  appearance  ;  dress  herself  in  neat, 
clean  clothes ;  adorn  Sebastian  with  the  robes 


WHAT    CRUMP    THOUGHT  95 

made  for  some  more  fortunate  darling,  some 
blessed  child  who  wore  heavenly  garments  per- 
haps ;  and  then,  if  Sebastian  was  out  pursuing 
his  humble,  almost  degraded  calling,  considering 
what  riches  of  genius  the  man  had  squandered, 
she  would  trot  up  into  Ensign  Harry's  room, 
where  the  sun  lay  in  such  broad  swathes  when 
there  was  any  sun  at  all,  or  into  Captain  Molly's 
"  den,"  the  most  splendid  place,  in  Reine's  unso- 
phisticated eyes,  that  had  ever  served  to  house 
one  of  the  Lord's  choicest  saints. 

For  Captain  Molly  —  she  was  not  a  captain  yet, 
only  a  private ;  but  all  the  people  in  Paradise  Flats, 
and  some  of  the  soldiers  in  the  Army,  had  be- 
stowed the  title  upon  her  —  was  a  very  important 
little  personage  just  now.  She  had  furnished  her 
room  plainly,  but  with  choice  furniture  that  be- 
longed to  her  own  boudoir  at  home,  even  to  the 
little  cottage  piano,  where  she  practised  Salvation 
songs,  particularly  when  beautiful  Baby  Bassett 
was  near,  his  glorious  eyes  glowing  like  stars,  and 
following  every  movement  of  the  white,  well- 
shaped  fingers. 

It  was  an  education  to  Reine  to  visit  that  sanc- 
tuary of  holiness  ;  for  to  her  it  was  like  going  into 
a  church,  and  listening  to  the  lessons  that  point 
to  a  happy  eternity.  Sometimes  Nan  came  in 
with  her  violin.  Molly  was  teaching  her  to  read 
music,  and  the  child  made  rapid  progress.  And 
Molly  believed  herself  very  happy,  and  at  times 


96  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

was  so.  Her  sweet  young  face,  so  refined,  so 
full  of  that  subtle  magnetism  that  attracts,  not 
the  grosser  senses,  but  the  inward  purity,  if  there 
be  an  atom  in  the  soul  of  man,  never  had  been 
more  strikingly  developed  than  now,  in  her  rare 
renunciation  —  not  for  the  hope  of  place  or  power, 
but  for  the  opportunity  of  lifting  grosser  minds 
to  the  level  of  her  own.  Her  father  need  not 
have  been  ashamed  of  her,  even  in  her  poke  bon- 
net ;  and  as  she  sat  there,  serene  and  gracious, 
even  Ensign  Harry  looked  and  worshipped. 

So  far  she  was  contented  with  the  lot  she  had 
chosen.  At  first  the  tramp  through  those  grace- 
less streets,  the  taunts  of  the  gamins,  the  scof- 
fers, the  lackeys,  and  even  of  nicer  people,  who 
were  born  for  better  things,  oppressed  and  morti- 
fied her ;  but  she  grew  out  of  that.  In  the  little 
halls  whither  they  drifted,  led  always  by  the  awk- 
ward instruments  that,  musically,  trod  on  each 
other's  toes,  there  was  work  to  do ;  and  she  forgot 
everything  in  the  joy  of  seeing  poor  wretches 
brought  out  of  the  slough  of  despair,  out  of  a  life- 
long devil  worship,  to  the  worship  of  the  true 
God.  There  it  was  !  she  saw  it  for  herself.  Cast- 
aways made  penitent,  lunatics  clothed  and  in  their 
right  mind,  worshippers  of  the  bottle  made  wor- 
shippers of  the  Christ.  She  examined  the  texture 
of  their  new  garments,  and  found  them  fine  and 
white  ;  all  the  red  stains  washed  out  of  them  ;  all 
the  black  warp  of  sin  and  a  guilty  conscience 


WHAT    CRUMP    THOUGHT  9/ 

made  clear  and  clean,  so  that  she  dared  to  stand 
side  by  side  with  them.  She  went  with  Ensign 
Harry  to  homes  that  were  plague-spots,  saw  faces 
that  haunted  her  with  their  evil  gleams  for  days 
and  days  ;  but  when,  after  a  heavy  raid  on  the 
citadel  of  the  castaways,  she  returned  home,  she 
felt  that,  at  least,  she  was  living  for  a  definite 
object.  No  rich  ball-dress  to  disrobe  herself  of; 
no  memories  of  a  pressure  of  the  hand  here,  a 
dance  with  this  military  snob  or  that  moneyed 
idiot ;  no  recalling  of  vapid  compliments  with  the 
reflection  that  she  must  go  through  this  again  to- 
morrow, and  after  to-morrow  —  and  for  a  thousand 
to-morrows  to  come,  and  all  through  the  seasons ; 
the  same  scents  of  flowers,  the  same  well-bred 
people,  the  same  insolence  of  power,  the  same 
incense  burned  before  vanity,  the  same  lisp,  the 
same  intolerable  sameness.  Not  for  one  moment 
did  she  regret  the  loss  of  her  old  associates. 

It  was  a  clinging  hand  she  thought  of,  a  pair  of 
wistful  eyes,  a  sorrow-laden  cry.  "  O  miss,  if  I'd 
only  a  knowed  ye  before,  knowed  that  ye'd  speak 
to  the  likes  of  one  of  us,  God  knows  I'd  been  a 
better  girl.  But  I'm  going  to  try,  miss.  I  never 
can  be  so  good  as  you ;  but  as  God  lives,  I'll 
try!" 

Ah,  that  was  sweeter  music  than  all  the  rhap- 
sodies and  mockeries  and  fal-fals  of  the  four  hun- 
dred of  her  set  who  were  agonizing  over  the 
thought  of  her  downfall.  There  was  work  for 


98  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

every  moment,  —  organizing,  helping,  and  redeem- 
ing. She  had  absolutely  no  time  to  wonder  at 
herself ;  to  wonder  what  the  world  said  ;  to  won- 
der even  over  what  might  be  going  on  at  home  — 
her  father's  palace  home. 

One  thing  she  had  stipulated  for,  —  that  her 
father  would  allow  her  to  write  to  him  every 
week.  Through  the  medium  of  these  letters, 
which  constituted  a  sort  of  diary,  she  hoped  to 
soften  his  heart ;  to  lead  him  to  think  less  of  dol- 
lars and  cents,  and  more  of  human  souls. 

Little  Nan  could  play  very  sweetly  now.  Some- 
times Molly  contrived  cheerful  entertainments  — 
of  course  they  were  on  a  small  scale,  although  the 
rooms  were  rather  spacious ;  and  little  Nan's  violin 
followed  the  cottage  piano,  and  whoever  had  the 
gift  of  song  or  of  poetry  helped  the  young  hostess 
whenever  the  nights  came.  The  invitation  went 
from  room  to  room,  but  there  were  scorners  even 
in  Paradise  Flats  and  terrible  scorners. 

"  If  you  goes  nigh  them  Damnationists,  I'll 
knock  the  head  of  you  clean  off  your  shoulders," 
said  Crump  the  tailor  to  his  yellow-haired  daugh- 
ter, a  blue-eyed,  weak-looking  girl,  but  who  had 
a  leaning  towards  higher  culture,  and  had  taken  a 
great  fancy  to  Ensign  Harry  and  Captain  Molly. 

And  the  Haggertys  and  McNattys,  O'Rourkes 
and  Hardys,  all  the  Micks  and  Scotch  Dougals, 
and  fighting  Englishmen,  and  moon-faced  Ger- 
mans, and  lank,  lean  Yankees,  and  yellow-faced 


WHAT    CRUMP   THOUGHT  99 

Southerners,  who  had  strayed  from  their  Virginia 
fastnesses,  where  every  father's  ancestry  had  once 
held  castle  and  fortress  against  the  siege  of  the 
enemy,  —  all  of  them,  right  under  the  shadow  of 
the  temple  of  safety,  cursed  and  turned  away. 


IOO  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XV 

HOW   THE    FIDDLE    CROONED 
I  feel  no  care  of  coin. 

NANNY  GARTIA  had  found  her  sojourn  with 
Mrs.  McKisseth  a  very  pleasant  one.  Mrs.  Mc- 
Kisseth  was  one  of  those  round  little  women,  a 
very  roly-poly  of  a  woman,  quick  and  witty,  pretty 
and  pleasant,  her  warm  Irish  heart  all  sympathy 
with  any  body  or  creature  that  suffered.  She  did 
tailoring,  and  cooked  delicious  dishes  out  of  scraps, 
and  never  a  bite  or  sup  she  had  that  somebody 
was  not  welcome  to  half  of  it.  A  comfortable 
gray  cat,  a  chirping  canary,  and  Nan  with  the 
"fiddle,"  as  she  called  the  instrument,  constituted 
the  family.  Here  Nanny  practised  when  she 
could  for  the  noise  the  children  made  on  every 
side ;  and  the  dear  old  violin  responded  with  a 
loving  voice,  that  sometimes,  under  the  manipula- 
tion of  Nan's  little  fingers,  gave  out  tones  that 
melted  one's  heart. 

"I  think  I  can  make  it  laugh,  and  I  believe  I 
could  make  it  cry,"  Nan  said  one  day. 

"It  cries  and  laughs  of  itself,  colleen,"  said 
Mrs.  McKisseth.  "  I've  even  heard  it  whisper  o' 


HOW    THE    FIDDLE    CROONED  IOI 

nights,"  she  continued,  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross,  for  she  was  a  good  Catholic.  "  Indade, 
when  the  moon's  been  shining  in  its  face,  an'  ye 
left  it  hangin'  on  the  wall,  an'  the  wind  sighing  a 
bit  outside,  I've  heard  it  croonin'  so  soft  and  fine 
you  might  'a'  thought  it  was  its  own  shadow  in  the 
moonlight  that  did  it." 

"Oh!"  laughed  the  child,  "it  must  be  a  nice 
fiddle,  then.  Everybody  who  hears  it  speaks  of 
its  sweet  tones.  I  expect  that  fiddle  is  worth  a 
great  deal  of  money." 

"  Indade,  I  wouldn't  part  wid  it  for  the  treasury 
of  the  United  States,"  —  with  a  vague  idea  of  a 
house  full  of  greenbacks,  —  said  Mrs.  McKisseth, 
as  she  went  from  chair  to  table  brushing  and 
brightening  the  old  and  scanty  furniture.  She 
was  a  mirror  of  neatness,  was  Mrs.  McKisseth. 
The  frill  of  her  little  round  cap  was  scarcely 
whiter  than  the  floor  under  her  busy  feet. 

"  But  then,  if  it  would  bring  me  an  education," 
said  Nan,  gravely  considering  the  matter. 

"  An  education ! "  and  the  little  Irishwoman 
stood  and  looked  at  the  child ;  "  what  kind  of  an 
education  is  it  ye'd  be  havin'  ? " 

"  One  that  poor  papa  would  like.  '  Ah,'  he 
used  to  say,  '  if  I  only  had  the  strength  to  teach 
you,  perhaps  you  could  make  your  fortune  with 
old  King  Solomon  ; '  and  then  he  would  take  it,  and 
look  at  it  so  lovingly  that  it  made  the  tears  come 
to  my  eyes.  Many  a  time  he's  hugged  it,  looking 


IO2  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

down  as  you  would  at  a  baby,  saying  that  he 
couldn't  remember  the  time  when  he  hadn't  heard 
it  or  seen  it,  for  his  father  led  an  orchestra  too. 
It  always  seems  to  me  as  if  some  of  my  father's 
soul  went  into  that  old  fiddle ;  is  that  a  wicked 
thought  ? " 

"  Ah,  cushla ! "  said  the  little  red-cheeked  old 
woman  thoughtfully,  "the  soul  goes  where  the 
good  God  sends  it.  I  sometimes  thinks  meself, 
when  them  low  notes  go  wailing  through  the  air, 
that  maybe  there's  a  soul  prisoned  there.  Don't 
the  Holy  Scriptures  speak  of  the  souls  in  prison  ; 
and  if  it's  not  your  father,  bless  him,  it  may  be 
some  other  musical  soul.  But  Lord  help  us,  how 
we  are  talking,  and  there's  them  potaties  a-shiver- 
ing  widthout  their  skins  !  I'll  pop  'em  into  the 
bilin'  water  at  oncet." 

Captain  Molly  held  her  opinion  with  regard  to 
the  violin.  She  knew  that  Russell  Stacey —  "poor 
fellow,"  she  murmured  to  herself  —  would  have 
been  only  too  glad  to  buy  it.  He  played  himself 
with  very  fair  success,  and  she  rightly  judged 
that  the  instrument  was  valuable.  She  was  also 
confident  that  the  girl  Nan  had  genius  of  a  high 
order ;  and  it  semed  pitiful  to  her  that  this  bright 
genius,  with  her  Italian  eyes  and  passion  for  all 
things  beautiful,  should  lack  any  good  thing.  So 
she  cast  about  how  she  could  help  her. 

The  thought  occurred  to  her  that  if  her  own 
music-teacher,  Professor  Andromo,  also  an  Italian 


HOW    THE    FIDDLE    CROONED  IO3 

by  birth,  could  be  prevailed  upon  to  aid  the  child 
by  instructing  her  for  half  rates,  —  Molly  to  pay 
the  tuition  fees,  —  the  experience  would  be  bene- 
ficial to  both  master  and  pupil.  But  how  to  beard 
the  aristocratic  lion  in  his  den  ?  All  the  haut  ton 
went  to  him.  Could  he  find  time  to  devote  an 
hour  or  two  a  week  to  this  child  ?  Would  he  soil 
his  delicate  fingers  with  the  bow  of  one  of  the 
canaille,  though  she  was  of  his  own  country  ?  As 
for  the  girl,  it  would  be  fields  of  asphodel  to  her. 
Now  she  felt  the  need  of  a  warm,  loving  friend- 
ship such  as  she  had  hoped  might  exist  between 
Russell  Stacey  and  herself. 

"  He  would  have  entered  into  it  with  so  much 
interest,"  she  said,  blushing  a  little,  "for  my  sake. 
Yes ;  and  it  would  have  been  all  for  my  sake ;  and 
now  he  is  out  of  the  country.  I  couldn't  call  upon 
him  if  I  would.  After  all,  he  was  a  high-minded 
fellow,  considering  he  belonged  to  the  world,  and 
was  rich  enough  to  be  as  wicked  as  he  pleased." 

This  was  after  one  of  Nan's  daily  visits,  in 
which  the  child  had  shown  evidences  of  great  prog- 
ress, and  a  keen  appreciation  of  certain  lessons 
beyond  her  age. 

Captain  Molly  sat  down  to  her  desk  to  straighten 
out  the  confusion  incident  to  her  many  interrup- 
tions, when  there  was  a  tap  at  the  door. 

"Come  in,"  was  the  cheery  call.  She  knew 
that  no  one  would  come  at  that  hour  but  Ensign 
Harry. 


IO4  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  I  don't  want  to  disturb  you,"  said  the  ensign 
as  she  stood  on  the  threshold,  and  Molly  saw  at 
once  that  something  was  amiss. 

"  You  look  pale,"  she  said,  rising  from  her  papers, 
and  going  towards  her  friend. 

"  I  feel  a  little  ill,"  was  the  half-gasping  reply. 

Molly  placed  a  chair  for  the  white-faced  woman, 
and  stood  before  her  with  folded  hands,  all  solici- 
tude. She  noticed  now  how  drawn  were  the  deli- 
cate lips,  and  even  in  the  curves  of  her  temples 
were  evidences  of  some  great  trouble. 

"  Shall  I  send  for  a  doctor  ? "  Molly  asked,  think- 
ing how  soft  and  beautiful  were  the  outlines  of  the 
pretty  English  face. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  shall  feel  better  soon.  I  —  have — 
had  a  shock,"  she  articulated.  Presently  a  little 
color  came  to  her  cheeks,  her  breathing  was  more 
natural,  and  she  could  talk. 

Placing  a  piece  of  newspaper  in  her  friend's 
hand,  she  said,  "Read  that." 

Molly  read,  — 

"The  Rev.  Henry  Flagler,  assistant  rector  of 
St.  Blank's  in  Hertfordshire,  England,  will  deliver 
an  address  on  English  and  American  S.  S.  Work, 
on  Sunday  evening,  at  St.  Luke's  Chapel. 

"The  Rev.  Mr.  Flagler  is  a  young  English 
clergyman  of  great  promise,  and  of  unusual  powers 
of  eloquence,  etc." 

Captain  Molly  read  it  through,  and  then  looked 
up  inquiringly. 


HOW    THE    FIDDLE    CROONED  10$ 

Ensign  Harry  smiled  —  a  faint,  quivering  smile 
that  hardly  curled  the  sensitive  lips. 

"  You  know  I  gave  him  up,"  she  said. 

"  But  I  never  dreamed  he  was  a  clergyman," 
was  Molly's  answer. 

"  Ah  !  that  was  three  years  ago.  He  was  in 
deacon's  orders  then,  did  not  take  full  orders  till 
two  years  afterward.  I — I  gave  him  up,"  she 
went  on  faintly,  the  same  drawn  look  coming  over 
her  face. 

"  How  could  you  ?  and  he  destined  to  be  a 
leader  of  men  ! "  escaped  Molly's  lips. 

"  I  did  —  of  course  I  did.  But  —  but  that  is  the 
state  church  in  England.  It  means,  in  my  eyes, 
oppression  of  the  people ;  and  my  own  family  and 
all  my  ancestry  were  Dissenters.  He  stood  to  his 
colors,  —  I  can't  say  but  what  I  honored  him  for 
that,  —  but  I  could  not  go  with  him.  He  was  am- 
bitious, and  liked  the  good  things  of  this  world, 
—  wealth,  honors,  and  in  a  certain  sense,  courted 
them.  I  felt  differently ;  I  did  not  like  the  Church, 
was  not  in  harmony  with  it ;  my  education,  pur- 
suits, and  aims  led  to  different  results.  We  could 
not  agree,  loving  him  though  I  did  almost  idola- 
trously,  God  forgive  me  if  it  was  a  sin ;  so  I  cast  in 
my  lot  with  the  poor,  the  unfortunate,  the  vicious, 
the  fallen.  He  tried  to  dissuade  me  from  the  en- 
terprise; we  both  grew  angry,  stubborn,  perhaps 
vindictive.  So  I  became  an  outcast  for  opinion's 
sake.  That  is  what  he  and  my  people  said.  Oh, 


IO6  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

yes !  "  to  Molly's  look  of  inquiry ;  "  they  would  have 
had  me  marry  him  sooner  than  join  the  Salva- 
tionists. There  they  drew  the  line  —  despising 
them,  their  banners,  their  drums,  their  military 
rules  ;  but  I  took  the  matter  into  my  own  hands. 
Do  you  know,"  and  she  smiled  through  glistening 
tears,  "  my  great-grandfather  on  my  father's  side 
was  a  reformer,  and  died  the  death  of  a  martyr.  I 
wonder  if  his  spirit  could  have  been  influencing 
me  that  I  took  this  step  ?  " 

"  Do  you  regret  it  ? "  asked  Molly. 

"  Regret  it ! "  she  replied  in  a  brisker  voice ;  "  no, 
I  do  not  regret  it ;  but  you  must  understand,  in  or- 
der to  appreciate  my  present  —  foolishness  —  weak- 
ness indeed"  —  and  she  stamped  her  small  foot 
— "how  much  I  loved  him.  He  was  everything 
to  me.  Whatever  typifies  the  best  and  most  beau- 
tiful things  in  the  power  of  earth  or  heaven  to  be- 
stow, that  he  was  to  me,  —  air,  sunshine,  life  itself. 
You  see,"  she  added,  faltering,  "  we  knew  and 
loved  each  other  for  ten  long  years.  But  to  win 
heaven  is  better  than  to  enjoy  mere  earthly  love  " 
—  she  looked  up  with  pleading  and  wistfulness  in 
her  blue  eyes.  "  I  thought  so  then ;  I  think  so  still. 
You  and  I  have  both  left  good  homes ;  yours  more 
splendid  perhaps,  because  ours  was  a  country 
house,  with  steps  leading  everywhere, —  into  great 
sunny  rooms,  into  little  cosey  nooks  covered  out- 
side with  vines,  into  old-fashioned  corners,  out 
into  a  bright  old  garden,  the  pride  of  all  the  gene- 


HOW    THE    FIDDLE    CROONED  IO/ 

rations  gone  before.  I  shall  never  stop  if  I  think 
of  that, — the  peach-  and  plum-trees  trained  against 
the  wall,  billows  of  bloom  in  the  sunlight,  clouds 
of  faint  gold  in  the  twilight  where  the  marigolds 
grew  —  oh,  my  old,  happy  home  !  "  and  she  bent 
over,  her  hands  at  her  eyes,  rocking  a  little  to 
and  fro. 

"  My  dear,  you  are  homesick,"  said  Molly 
gently. 

"Homesick  —  oh,  no!  He  that  putteth  his 
hand  to  the  plough,  you  know,  I  forget  —  oh,  yes, 
I  was  going  to  ask  you  if  you  regret  the  step  you 
have  taken." 

"I  —  find  great  happiness  in  the  work,"  said 
Molly  truthfully. 

"  Yes,  I  do  —  I  did  ;  but,  you  see,  there  are  nine 
of  them  at  home,  away  across  the  wild  sea  —  and 
you  are  near  your  father.  Nothing  very  terrible 
could  happen  to  you.  And  now  to  have  this  fear- 
ful cross  to  bear  —  for  —  do  you  know  — I  think," 
—  she  clasped  both  hands  over  her  heart,  —  "I 
think  he  has  come  in  the  hope  of  finding  me  !  Is 
it  vanity?  or  is  it  his  heart  whispering  to  mine? 
I  can't  tell.  I  only  know  I  feel  so.  I  —  I'm  a 
little  wild  about  it,"  and  she  laughed  softly,  "  a  lit- 
tle off,  I  suppose,  as  some  people  put  it  —  but  I 
don't  want  him  to  see  me  in  my  uniform."  She 
laughed  again,  but  it  was  more  like  a  sob. 

"  Don't  think  I'm  ashamed  of  it  under  ordinary 
circumstances.  I'm  proud  of  it,"  she  went  on ; 


IO8  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  but  is  it  a  momentary  weakness  I  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of?"  and  then  she  folded  her  hands,  and 
sank  back  helpless. 

"Oh,  no!  it  is  very  natural,"  said  Molly  sooth- 
ingly. "  You  are  sure  —  of  course  you  are  sure 
—  that  he  is  still  true  to  you  ? "  In  a  moment 
she  felt  she  had  committed  a  rudeness,  and  said 
so. 

"  Not  in  the  least.  I  have  not  heard  from  home 
for  the  last  six  months.  Oh,  my  dear  !  if  he  should 
be  married,  should  have  brought  —  his — wife  — 
here  —  then  God  would  have  taken  it  all  out  of 
my  hands.  But  what  am  I  saying?  If  I  could 
not  be  tempted  five  years  ago — how  could  I  dare 
to  dally  with  temptation  now  ?  Well,  the  chapel 
is  not  far." 

"  Shall  you  go  ? "  Molly  asked,  seeing,  as  in  a 
lightning  flash,  how  this  woman  loved  and  suf- 
fered. 

"  What !  in  my  Salvation  clothes  ?"  She  smiled 
faintly. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  Molly  asked. 

"  Would  you  ?  " 

At  this  direct  question  Molly  swerved  a  little 
mentally,  and  her  glance  went  towards  the  win- 
dow. A  miserable  woman  lower  down  the  street 
was  hanging  out  clothes  on  the  small  square  of 
shed  that  served  for  a  yard,  a  yard  in  the  air. 
She  remembered  that  that  very  woman,  too  low, 
indeed,  to  bear  the  sacred  name,  had  laughed  at 


HOW    THE    FIDDLE    CROONED  IO9 

her.  Church  !  where  all  was  rigid  propriety,  full 
dress,  after  the  fashion  of  church-goers,  velvet  and 
feathers,  brocade  and  lace,  —  even  in  a  back  seat, 
with  the  poke  bonnet,  a  cambric  gown  twelve 
cents  a  yard,  —  "would  you?"  echoed  in  her 
ears. 

"  My  dear,  we  are  not  bound  to  carry  sackcloth 
everywhere.  There  are  no  cast-iron  rules  forbid- 
ding any  style  but  this,"  she  said.  "Even  I 
brought  some  of  my  vanities  here,  —  a  box  with 
three  worldly  bonnets  in  it,  and  gloves  that  have 
been  to  several  balls.  Have  we  any  right  to  make 
the  congregation  stare  ?  I  think  not.  Neither 
are  we  nuns,  because  we  have  forsworn  the  world. 
We  are  two  earnest,  and,  I  hope,  honest  Christian 
women.  We  can  dress  as  plainly  as  we  please ;  but 
we  will  be  conventional  for  once,  and  go  to  the 
chapel  together." 

"  Oh,  you  dear  soul !  how  good  you  are !  you 
don't  scold  me  as  I  am  sure  Lieutenant  Rider 
would.  But,"  and  she  spoke  almost  wildly,  "  why 
should  I  go  at  all  ?  What  good  will  it  do  me  ?  If 
he  seeks  our  haunts,  let  him  see  me  —  I  don't 
care  !  I  shall  be  proud  of  it.  Would  you  go  ? " 

"I  — think,  perhaps  —  not,"  said  Captain  Molly. 

The  girl's  head  drooped  ;  she  drew  a  long  sigh. 

"  My  heart  is  absolutely  hungry  to  see  him," 
she  half  sobbed.  "  Maybe  it  is  just  possible  that 
I  might  —  not  care  so  much  —  after  —  you  know 
he  may  be  changed;"  she  stood  up  and  took  up 


IIO  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

Molly's  hands  in  hers.  "  I  may  be  disenchanted 
—  or  —  or  —  he  may  —  be  —  married  !  " 

The  pressure  on  Molly's  fingers  was  absolutely 
painful.  Her  heart  ached  for  her  friend,  but  the 
divine  instinct  of  womanhood  came  to  her  assist- 
ance. 

"  You  would  not  have  had  the  opportunity 
otherwise,"  she  said  softly ;  "  now,  perhaps,  he  is 
sent  here  for  your  spiritual  good.  Go  and  hear 
him." 


THREE    WORLDLY    HATS  III 


CHAPTER   XVI 

THREE    WORLDLY    HATS 

Nothing  is  troublesome  that  we  do  willingly. 

CAPTAIN  MOLLY  went  to  the  closet,  and  took 
down  a  milliner's  box,  a  slight  pasteboard  affair, 
with  the  name  of  the  most  fashionable  milliner 
in  the  city  printed  upon  the  cover.  Opening  it, 
she  displayed  two  modest  but  elegant  black  hats, 
trimmed  very  plainly  with  narrow  satin  ribbon, 
and  the  most  costly  flowers  daintily  arranged  in 
the  prevailing  style.  Besides  these  there  were  a 
bonnet,  two  fans,  and  a  package  of  gloves. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  some  situation  might  arise 
in  which  I  should  need  them,"  Molly  said.  "The 
gloves  are  tan,  and  will  go  nicely  with  our  black 
dresses.  You  shall  have  either  hat  you  choose," 
she  went  on,  turning  smilingly  to  her  friend. 

"  But  if  we  are  seen  going  out  in  these,"  Ensign 
Harry  said  hesitatingly. 

"  We  shall  rise  in  the  estimation  of  every  soul  in 
Paradise  —  lost"  retorted  Molly.  " How  fortunate 
that  you  saw  this  notice  in  time  !  The  lecture 
takes  place  to-night,  our  off  night ;  and  I  confess  I 
want  to  see  this  zealous  young  preacher  myself." 


112  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"But  — he  must  not  see  us,"  said  Ensign  Harry 
with  some  agitation,  holding  the  hat  in  her  hand. 

"  Do  you  suppose  there  is  the  slightest  ghost  of 
a  chance  —  though  love  is  quick-sighted,"  Molly 
laughed  ;  "we  will  take  back  seats." 

"There  will  be  ushers,  though,"  Ensign  Harry 
made  reply. 

"  Put  on  your  hat,"  said  Molly,  and  then  stood 
back,  her  head  on  one  side,  her  glance  critical. 

"Try  the  bonnet,"  she  went  on,  lifting  deftly 
the  pretty  trifle  of  lace  and  silk.  "  You  will  look 
better  in  it.  Ah,  yes,  that  tiny  aigrette  was  just 
what  was  needed.  My  dear,  I  hope  he  will  see 
you.  You  don't  know  how  pretty  you  are  !  " 

The  cheeks  took  on  again  that  faint  English 
tinge  of  rose-color,  and  an  almost  divine  light 
sparkled  for  one  moment  in  the  sweet  blue  eyes  ; 
eyes  made  only  for  love  glances,  —  soft,  translucent 
deeps,  with  a  rich  sombre  semicircle  underneath 
which  only  added  to  their  brilliancy. 

"You  must  not  stir  the  sleeping  vanity  in  my 
heart,"  she  said,  smiling.  "When  I  was  a  girl,  I 
was  vain.  I  have  been  doing  penance  for  it  all 
my  life  —  oh,  so  vain  !  because  people  called  me 
pretty.  Oh,  I  am  wretched  indeed  !  I  ought  not 
to  go,  and  yet  I  must  go.  It  will  be  only  disaster 
to  me,  I  fear." 

"  Nonsense,  dear ;  you  are  brave  enough  to  fight 
his  Satanic  Majesty  at  all  times — can  you  not 
accept  the  result  as  God's  will  ? "  said  Molly. 


THREE    WORLDLY    HATS  1 13 

"I  ought  to  —  I  must,"  said  the  young  ensign. 
"  I  have  not  looked  at  it  in  that  light  before,  nor 
thought  of  my  motto,  — 

'  Let  all  fail,  if  Heaven  fail  not.'  " 

As  they  left  Paradise  Flats  they  met  Sebastian 
Bassett  walking  home  with  his  little  boy.  The 
beautiful  face  lighted  up  with  a  babe's  quick, 
heavenly  smile,  and  he  held  out  his  arms  to  them. 

Reine  followed  behind,  very  petite,  bright,  and 
delicate-looking  in  her  new  muslin  dress,  which 
Molly  had  finished  for  her  only  the  day  before. 

"  We've  been  out  walking,"  whispered  the  happy 
little  wife  and  mother.  "He  has  not  had  a  bad 
time  for  a  week —  and  God  bless  you  !  "  she  added 
from  a  full  heart. 

"That  baby  don't  belong  here,"  said  Ensign 
Harry  softly,  as  they  walked  on. 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  know,"  Molly  began  to  protest. 

"  There's  nothing  earthly  about  him,"  she  went 
on  ;  "I  always  think  of  him  as  belonging  to  another 
sphere  —  in  fine,  he  is  more  of  heaven  than  earth. 
How  came  he  to  be  born  of  earthly  parents  ?" 

"To  save  them  perhaps,"  said  Molly,  "or  at 
least  one  of  them.  You  might  say  of  Sebastian, 
there  seldom  comes  across  one's  path  a  man  so 
handsome,  and  more  talented  —  and  yet  "  — 

After  that  the  silence  was  unbroken. 


114  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XVII 


In  fine  aristocratic  state. 

THE  church  was  full,  and  brilliantly  lighted. 
Molly  and  her  friend  were  given  seats  in  the  side 
forming  one  wing  of  the  chapel,  which  was  built 
in  the  shape  of  a  Maltese  cross  ;  and  Harry  shrank 
into  the  corner  as  far  from  the  glare  of  the  light 
as  possible. 

There  were  flowers  in  the  chancel ;  and  on  the 
edge  of  the  broad,  velvet-lined  lectern  stood  a 
vase  of  calla-lilies,  every  one  a  perfect  blossom, 
white,  massive,  and  fragrant.  The  main  part  of 
the  chancel  was  out  of  sight  from  where  the  two 
young  women  sat ;  but  the  rolling  tones  of  the 
great  organ  penetrated  into  every  nook  and  corner, 
like  waves  flowing  and  ebbing,  soothing  the  turbu- 
lence of  thought  and  feeling  among  the  worship- 
pers, and  giving  poor  Ensign  Harry,  whose  hearing 
and  sight  grew  every  moment  more  and  more 
acute,  the  sensation  of  being  borne  aloft  on  its 
harmonious  swell,  till  sight  and  sense  were  soothed 
by  the  entrance  of  the  choir-boys,  headed  by  the 
precentor  and  followed  by  the  rector,  behind 


IN    THE    RECTORS    PEW  115 

whom,  with  slow  step  and  downcast  eyes,  came  a 
young,  tall  fellow  clad  in  the  gown  and  stole. 

Molly  felt  her  gown  grasped  hard,  and  knew 
that  this  was  the  Reverend  Mr.  Flagler.  She  had 
no  time  to  form  any  conclusions  as  to  his  appear- 
ance ;  for  she  felt  her  friend  Harry  leaning 
against  her,  and  feared  that  she  had  fainted.  She 
turned.  The  English  girl  was  very  pale,  her  face 
indeed  resembled  chiselled  marble,  but  only  their 
eyes  met.  She  made  no  sign  ;  but  Molly  drew  a 
little  closer,  obtained  possession  of  her  hand,  and 
thus  they  sat,  the  one  nervous  and  constrained, 
the  other  striving  to  impart  her  own  strength  for 
the  benefit  of  her  friend. 

In  the  rector's  pew  sat  two  women ;  one  the  wife 
of  the  resident  clergyman,  the  other  not  so  young, 
but  dressed  with  fine  accuracy  in  a  tan-colored 
silk-and-wool  travelling  dress,  her  bonnet  nodding 
with  tiny  plumes,  her  small  hands  exquisitely 
gloved,  in  one  of  them  a  prayer-book  bound  in 
old  ivory.  In  her  face  there  was  lack  of  spirit- 
ual beauty ;  but  the  correct  classical  outlines,  the 
heavy  lidded  blue  eyes,  and  the  faultless  com- 
plexion betrayed  a  Saxon  origin,  and  an  air  aristo- 
cratic breathed  from  all  her  movements. 

Molly's  heart  sank.  She  alone,  who  had  some- 
times resorted  to  the  chapel  on  Sunday  evenings, 
Russell  Stacey  being  her  escort,  knew  which  was 
the  rector's  pew;  and  she  said  to  herself, — 

"  That  woman   is  rich,  refined,  well-born,  and 


Il6  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

worldly  —  and,  saddest  of  all,  she  is  the  wife  of 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Flagler." 

After  the  service,  the  speaker  of  the  evening 
came  forward. 

Molly's  grasp  enclosed  a  hand  as  cold  as  ice, 
which  trembled  violently  as  the  young  clergyman 
commenced. 

Smooth,  flowing,  versatile,  sometimes  severely 
classical,  the  words  flowed  on.  Molly  was  critical. 
It  seemed  to  her  that  the  speaker  looked  round 
more  than  was  consistent  with  delicacy,  a  bold 
self-assertion  in  his  glance. 

"  He  is  also  effeminate,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"  That  face,  with  the  over-large  eyes  and  the  small 
mouth,  the  white  skin,  and  the  smooth  expression- 
less forehead,  is  not  the  face  of  a  man  willing,  if 
need  be,  to  fight  for  the  truth.  Prosperity  is  his 
only  hope ;  poverty  would  make  him  pusillani- 
mous, and  a  slave  to  the  rich.  I  don't  like  him." 

But  now  something  happened. 

The  man,  with  his  sweeping  glances,  at  last 
took  in  the  beautiful,  serious  face  of  Ensign 
Harry.  For  one  second  he  turned  white,  swayed, 
and  clutched  at  the  pulpit ;  everybody  saw  his 
agitation,  everybody  wondered. 

Then  he  took  from  some  place  beneath,  a  glass 
of  water,  and  wet  his  parched  lips,  braced  himself 
anew,  and  went  on  with  his  well-ordered  address ; 
but  never  again  did  his  eyes  wander  from  the 
written  page. 


IN    THE    RECTORS    PEW  I  I/ 

"  After  all,  he  must  have  loved  her,"  Molly  said 
to  herself  with  a  sad,  foreboding  heart. 

Amid  that  low,  decorous,  murmuring  swell  of 
voices  that  goes  up  the  aisle  with  the  people  as 
they  leave  the  temple,  one  could  hear  now  and 
then  the  comments  of  the  congregation. 

"Very  nice,"  said  a  woman  near  Molly,  "quite 
eloquent !  Did  you  see  the  lady  in  the  rector's 
pew  ?  That  is  his  bride ;  this  is  their  wedding- 
trip.  She  is  very  rich,  indeed,  enormously  wealthy, 
so  I  hear,  and  a  lady  by  title.  Yes,  he  made  a 
very  fine  match  ;  clergymen  are  sometimes  quite 
fortunate,  don't  you  know  ?  Oh,  yes  !  some  older 
than  he,  I  should  think;  but  that  bonnet,  heavens  ! 
Wasn't  it  a  dream  !  Well,  she  can  afford  it;  she 
has  millions." 

The  ensign  clutched  Molly's  dress  just  then, 
and  as  they  went  out  Molly  passed  an  arm  about 
her.  It  was  quite  late,  and  very  dark. 

"Don't  speak  to  me  —  don't  please  say  a  word," 
the  English  girl  whispered  almost  convulsively. 
"It  is  all  over  —  and  I  —  am  punished." 

And  then,  in  less  than  a  minute  afterwards,  in  a 
voice  full  of  anguish,  — 

"  Why  don't  you  talk  ?  O  Molly,  Molly  !  say 
something  to  comfort  me  or  I  shall  go  mad." 

"  Let  all  fail,  if  Heaven  fail  not,"  Molly  replied 
in  a  soft,  sweet  voice. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  thank  you !  "  the 
girl  spoke  rapidly;  "all  has  failed.  How  do  I 


Il8  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

know  but  Heaven  will  ?  O  Molly,  he  saw  me  !  " 
she  gasped. 

"  Yes,  he  saw  you  ;  that  was  evident  to  me,  and 
puzzling  to  many,  no  doubt,"  Molly  answered. 

"  A  mist  came  over  my  eyes.  Didn't  he  stop  ? " 
she  further  asked. 

"  He  not  only  stopped,  but  he  almost  lost  his 
wits.  Somebody  said,  coming  out,  that  very 
likely  he  had  spasms  of  the  heart.  People  always 
acted  that  way  who  did." 

"The  voyage  of  memory,"  murmured  Ensign 
Harry.  "Oh,  no!  he  can't  have  forgotten.  And 
his  face  —  what  did  you  think  of  it?  Ah,  me, 
why  do  I  ask  ? " 

"It  was  not  to  me  the  face  of  a  high-toned  gen- 
tleman. High-toned  I  mean  in  the  highest  and 
best  sense.  The  man  likes  good  dinners  and  flat- 
tery —  moderate  doses ;  and  he  couldn't  preach 
for  his  life  if  he  didn't  write  his  sermons." 

"  O  Molly !  is  that  your  estimate  of  the  man  I 
love  ?  " 

"Of  the  man  you  did  love,"  said  Molly,  the 
slightest  tinge  of  severity  in  her  voice.  "  It  is  a 
sin  to  love  him  now  that  he  is  married."  Harry 
was  silent  after  that. 

"Let  me  go  into  your  room,  dear,"  she  said,  as 
they  went  up  the  stairs  together. 

She  took  off  the  pretty  trifle  of  silk  and 
feathers. 

Just  then,  as  she  held  it  in  her  hand,  came  a 


IN    THE    RECTORS    PEW 

stirring  blast  from  a  cornet,  and  the  click  of  cas- 
tanets, accompanied  by  the  roll  of  the  drum.  The 
Salvation  Army  was  in  the  street  below.  Both 
girls  listened  as  the  small  body  of  Salvationists 
marched  along  on  their  way  from  evening  meet- 
ing. The  tears  stood  in  Ensign  Harry's  eyes. 

"  Blessed  little  company  ! "  she  said,  her  voice 
trembling — "humble,  faithful,  happy!  Here, 
Molly.  Thanks  for  your  kindness,"  as  she  handed 
her  the  bonnet.  "  I'll  never  take  off  the  badge 
of  my  —  liberty  again.  No  matter  where  I  go, 
High  Church  or  Low,  I  will  never  be  ashamed  of 
my  order  or  the  regimentals,  never !  Don't  cry, 
Molly ;  the  conflict  is  over.  God  shall  have  all 
my  heart  from  this  time  henceforth.  Forever- 
more  ! " 


I2O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

COUSIN    LUCY'S    REIGN 
The  road  to  home  happiness  lies  over  small  stepping-stones. 

I  saw  you  last  night  in  St.  Luke's  Chapel,  clothed,  and 
seemingly  in  your  right  mind.  What  did  it  mean  ?  Why 
were  you  at  the  lecture  delivered  by  the  celebrated  English 
philanthropist?  Come  back  to  us.  Last  night  you  were  at 
home.  It  cannot  be  that  you  prefer  the  slums.  Your  cousin 
wishes  you  to  come.  She  is  lonely  (I  don't  remember  that 
you  ever  considered  it  lonely  here).  I  had  a  letter  from 
Russell  Stacey.  He  was  in  Paris,  but  said  nothing  definite 
as  to  his  return.  Let  me  hear  that  you  have  come  to  your 
senses.  Isn't  there  a  commandment  in  some  old  book : 
"  Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother"?  To  be  sure  it  don't 
say  obey,  but  I  am  old-fashioned  enough  to  think  that  to  a 
father  obedience  is  due.  However,  I  don't  force  you,  re- 
member. If  you  won't  leave,  stay  till  you  tire  of  them  or 
they  tire  of  you.  YOUR  FATHER. 

Molly  wrote  often  to  her  father,  but  the  banker 
had  never  answered  her  letters.  This  was  the 
first  word  she  had  received  from  him.  The  sight 
of  Molly  dressed  in  the  old  style,  as  far  as  her 
conscience  approved,  so  touched  his  exacting 
heart  that  this  short  note  was  the  result.  Lucy, 
his  niece,  had  been  very  happy  for  a  time  in  the 
midst  of  all  her  finery.  It  was  so  different  from 


COUSIN    LUCYS    REIGN  121 

her  own  home,  —  a  small,  stuffy  house,  where  one 
always  knew  what  was  going  to  be  served  for 
dinner  by  the  smell  as  soon  as  the  front  door 
was  opened  ! 

Her  father  was  only  the  cashier  of  his  rich 
banker  brother-in-law.  There  were  several  boys 
in  the  family,  and  they  ruled  the  house.  Lucy 
when  at  her  own  home  always  felt  herself  at  the 
mercy  of  "the  boys."  They  were  rude  and  mis- 
chievous, boisterous  and  unruly.  They  stole  her 
confections  when  she  had  any  to  steal ;  hid  her 
books,  her  workbasket,  even  her  hats,  for  fun  ; 
and  played  the  most  preposterous  practical  jokes 
upon  her.  They  were  all  handsome,  hearty, 
healthy  fellows ;  but  neither  father  nor  mother 
knew  the  secret  of  governing  their  children,  and 
consequently  chaos  reigned. 

When  invited  to  become  an  Jiabitu^e  of  her  un- 
cle's house  her  delight  knew  no  bounds.  The  large, 
cool  mansion,  with  her  own  parlor  and  boudoir, 
seemed  literally  like  paradise  to  her.  To  have 
her  own  maid,  plenty  of  spending  money,  and  a 
fine  wardrobe,  was  as  near  being  in  a  state  of 
beatitude  as  she  could  imagine.  Molly's  maid 
stayed  on,  for  she  was  sure  that  Miss  Stanley 
would  come  back  some  time.  She  could  not  en- 
dure that  any  one  should  take  the  place  of  her 
well-beloved  young  lady,  with  whom  she  had  lived 
ever  since  Molly  went  into  long  frocks. 

"  She  never  give  herself  no  airs,  she  didn't," 


122  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

muttered  the  indignant  girl ;  "any  one  could  see 
which  was  the  lady  !  " 

As  for  Lucy,  she  revelled  in  rich  dresses,  bought 
them,  wore  them,  gave  them  away,  like  one  to  the 
manner  born.  She  still  suffered  from  "  the  boys," 
who  made  occasional  raids  upon  the  house,  and 
coaxed  her  for  money,  and  left  the  prints  of  their 
soiled  boots  upon  the  delicate  carpets.  And  it 
irked  her  to  rise  at  stated  hours  to  take  break- 
fast with  her  uncle.  She  managed  to  comply  with 
the  rules,  and  did  the  honors  with  sleepy  eyes  and 
tousled  hair. 

Molly  had  declined  more  than  half  of  her  in- 
vitations to  society  gatherings ;  Lucy  accepted 
every  one  with  eagerness.  Consequently  she  was 
somewhat  jaded  that  first  winter,  and  her  uncle 
often  waited  for  her  till  the  toast  was  cold. 

"  My  dear,  Molly  never  kept  me  waiting,"  he 
said  now  and  then  ;  and  his  very  soul  rebelled 
against  the  edict  he  had  given  forbidding  his 
daughter  the  house. 

"  The  little  fool  !  the  little  blank  fool  !  "  he 
would  mutter  between  his  teeth  —  only  his  pro- 
fanity was  very  much  more  pronounced.  "  But 
she  is  true  grit ! "  and  he  ended  with  a  fit  of  mus- 
ing admiration  for  her  spirit,  pluck,  and  courage. 
He  seldom  went  into  society,  so  he  heard  but  few 
of  the  remarks  of  the  busybodies  who  pitied  him 
and  condemned  Molly  in  the  same  breath. 

Home  was  not  so  pleasant  now.     He  was  proud 


COUSIN    LUCYS    REIGN  123 

and  very  fond  of  Molly.  Her  stately  beauty, — at 
least,  she  seemed  stately  to  him,  though  she  was 
by  no  means  tall ;  her  sweet  good-morning  kiss, 
—  Lucy  seldom  kissed  him,  and  he  did  not  care 
for  her  to  do  so  ;  her  real  love  for  him,  for  him- 
self alone,  —  Lucy's  face  beamed  only  when  he 
gave  her  the  allowance  she  dearly  loved  to  spend  ; 
her  whole  gracious  loveliness  in  all  home  minis- 
trations,—  were  constantly  in  his  memory. 

Lucy  sometimes  helped  him  on  with  his  coat, 
she  kept  his  dressing-gown  and  slippers  in  the 
right  places,  she  tried  to  remember  what  made  for 
his  comfort,  but  she  was  not  always  successful. 
Molly  never  forgot  things.  Her  habits  were  fixed. 

Mr.  Stanley  went  down  to  his  office  one  day 
thoroughly  vexed.  It  was  the  night  after  the  lec- 
ture, where  he  had  seen  Molly  "clothed,  and  in 
her  right  mind,"  as  he  phrased  it.  Lucy  had  come 
down  when  breakfast  was  half  over ;  and  if  there 
was  one  thing  that  he  hated  more  than  another,  it 
was  to  sit  down  to  the  table  alone.  He  had  only 
glanced  at  the  girl ;  for  there  were  traces  of  negli- 
gence in  her  toilet,  and  she  was  not  as  pleasant  to 
the  sight  as  when  in  full  dress  and  beaming  on  an 
escort  —  the  only  hours  when  she  really  lived. 
So,  before  she  had  even  drunk  her  coffee,  he  left 
the  table,  pushed  back  his  chair,  and  without  word 
or  glance  left  the  room  and  the  house. 

It  was  a  little  surly  perhaps,  but  trifles  worried 
him  now.  All  the  way  to  the  bank,  however,  he 


124  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

took  some  satisfaction  in  the  consciousness  that 
she  had  been  perhaps  as  uncomfortable  as  himself, 
for  he  had  never  left  her  that  way  before. 

He  was  in  his  office  when  one  of  the  clerks 
brought  him  a  business  paper. 

"I  see,"  he  said,  "that  is  Stacey's  signature. 
Who  is  the  man  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  ;  he  was  vouched  for  by  Captain 
Carey,  who  happened  to  be  in  the  bank." 

"  Oh,  well !  that's  all  right ;  let  him  have  the  five 
thousand.  But  stop,  I'll  take  a  look  at  him." 

He  came  out  of  the  office,  still  talking  with  the 
cashier. 

A  man  with  a  travelled  air,  dainty  mutton-chop 
whiskers,  bronze-colored  hair,  and  blue  spectacles, 
stood  at  the  counter. 

"  Acquainted  with  Stacey  ?  "  the  banker  asked, 
as  the  man  was  about  to  move  away. 

"  Oh,  yes !  very  intimately,"  was  the  quiet  an- 
swer; "he  was  with  me  on  the  Continent." 

"  And  you  left  him  well,  I  hope  ? " 

"Yes,  I  left  him  very  well ;  good-morning,"  and 
the  stranger  went  out. 

"  Singular!  I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  make  out 
who  that  gentleman  reminds  me  of,"  muttered  the 
banker. 

"  Even  Stanley  don't  know  me,  and  he's  the 
keenest  reader  of  faces  I  ever  met,"  reflected 
Stacey,  as  he  walked  down  the  steps  of  the  bank. 
"  There  would  be  no  bar  to  my  social  advance- 


COUSIN    LUCY'S    REIGN  125 

ment  on  the  score  of  appearance.  It's  odd  to  feel 
one's  self  descending  in  the  social  scale,  even  to 
go  into  society  a  stranger,"  he  smiled  to  himself 
as  he  walked  down  the  street,  meeting  no  one 
to  do  him  homage,  though  he  frequently  passed  a 
familiar  face. 


126  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XIX 
THE  PROFESSOR'S  VERDICT 

The  meaning  of  harmony  goes  deep. 

THE  windows  at  Professor  Andromo's  were 
open  to  the  soft  breezes  of  the  sea.  He  lived  in 
an  unfashionable  quarter  of  the  city ;  but  in  spite 
of  his  social  surroundings,  he  was  the  musical 
lion  of  the  day.  As  a  pianist,  his  reputation  was 
supreme  in  that  paradise  of  professors.  The  vio- 
lin in  his  hands  told  wild  stories  of  love  and 
romance,  and  he  was  petitioned  by  courtly  dames 
to  give  lessons  to  their  sons  and  daughters  at  the 
most  fabulous  prices. 

Opposite  the  house  was  an  old-fashioned  square, 
daintily  laid  out  with  flowering  shrubs,  trees,  and 
Southern  plants.  Iron  seats  wrought  with  artistic 
finish  stood  at  various  distances. 

On  one  of  them  sat  Nanny  Gartia.  The  quiver 
of  blossoms  in  the  soft  air  stirred  her  soul  to  mel- 
ody ;  and  her  deep,  lustrous,  spiritual  eyes  moved 
as  if  entranced  from  one  floral  beauty  to  another. 
She  was  quite  neatly  dressed,  yet  bore  the  im- 
print of  poverty  in  some  curiously  defined  way. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  stamp  that  penury,  suffering, 


THE    PROFESSORS    VERDICT 


and  self-denial  had  left  upon  her  face,  and  that 
clung  to  her  personality.  Her  hair,  abundant  and 
carefully  dressed,  flowed  in  loose,  short  curls  from 
under  a  prim  little  hat  ;  and  lying  across  her  lap 
the  old  green  baize  bag,  held  in  place  by  a  shapely 
hand,  appealed  pathetically  to  the  passers-by,  pro- 
claiming her  vocation  as  that  of  a  street  mu- 
sician. 

Once  or  twice  the  child  looked  opposite,  up 
to  the  window  banked  and  hanging  in  exquisite 
wreaths  of  color,  and  contrasting  delicately  with 
the  pearly  gray  tones  of  the  great  house,  built 
over  a  century  ago. 

There  was  no  monotony  in  the  scene.  Up 
the  stony  pathways  carriages  were  rolling,  and  big 
drags,  drawn  by  fat,  portly  horses,  wended  their 
way  to  the  lower  part  of  the  city.  The  trees  were 
all  of  a  tremble,  catching  the  sunlight  in  diamond 
dots,  and  making  rich  tracery  on  the  dun-colored 
paths  underneath. 

Presently  the  door  opened  opposite,  and  a  young 
girl  came  out. 

"  She  is  dressed  like  all  the  rest,"  murmured 
Nan  with  a  little  impatient  sigh,  —  "  silks  and  fine 
laces  !  And  many  of  them  come  in  carriages," 
she  went  on,  as  a  splendid  equipage,  with  glints 
of  yellow  light  on  the  panels,  drove  up,  and  the 
coachman  opened  the  door  for  his  dainty  mistress. 
"  They're  all  rich,  I  guess  ;  none  of  them  poor, 
fatherless  girls  like  me.  How  many  scholars  he 


128  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

must  have  !  Oh,  if  I  hadn't  promised  Miss  Stan- 
ley, I  wouldn't  dare  go ;  and  I  don't  know  as  I 
will.  What  will  he  care  for  me?  Yet  Miss  Stan- 
ley is  quite  sure  he  will  be  good  to  me.  Ah  ! 
nobody  seems  to  be  coming  out  any  more ;  now 
it  is  your  turn,  little  beggar." 

She  drew  from  the  pocket  of  her  flannel  dress 
Molly's  letter  in  a  square  white  envelope. 

Meantime  the  professor  was  through  with  work 
for  the  day.  He  left  the  piano  after  originating  a 
short,  sweet  prelude,  and  stood  looking  into  the 
square,  his  face  framed  in  vines  and  pink  blos- 
soms. 

"  After  all,  what  stupid  work,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "  Pupils  with  no  ear  for  the  nicety  of  ex- 
pression that  all  music  demands ;  pupils  with 
blunt  fingers,  who  scare  away  the  elements  of  pre- 
cision and  delicacy  ;  pupils  who  wander  in  their 
minds,  and  turn  to  me  with  blank  faces,  then 
hammer  and  sigh  and  cry,  and  go  at  hammering 
again.  Perdition  take  them  all,  I  say  !  " 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"  Come  in  !  "  he  said.  Then  in  a  more  impa- 
tient voice,  "  Come  in  ;  don't  you  hear  ?  " 

The  door  opened.  The  great  professor  stared 
and  wondered.  Never  had  a  creature  so  hope- 
lessly plebeian  crossed  that  threshold  before.  Gen- 
erally his  usher,  a  gorgeous  creature  in  gold  and 
blue,  heralded  the  visitor  with  a  card  on  a  silver 
salver.  How  came  this  one  unheralded  ? 


THE   PROFESSORS    VERDICT 

"  The  door  was  open,  sir  ;  I  didn't  ring,  but 
came  up-stairs,"  said  the  child  in  a  frightened 
voice. 

"Ah!  I'll  give  Paine  the  devil  for  this,"  growled 
the  professor ;  then  seeing  the  frightened  look  in 
the  child's  eyes,  he  changed  his  tones.  "  Well, 
well,  quick,  what  do  you  want  ?  I  haven't  a  dime 
—  no,  nor  a  penny  ;  but,  good  Lord,  there's  a 
quarter.  Take  it,  and  go.  I  can't  waste  my  time, 
youngster." 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  ain't  a  beggar !  Did  you  think  I'd 
come  a-begging  to  you?  I  don't  want  the  quarter, 
sir;  I  earn  quarters  myself  sometimes.  But  see, 
my  father  was  a  musician,  and  I  —  oh,  I'd  like  to 
forgot  —  here's  a  letter  for  you,  sir." 

The  child  had  hardly  recovered  from  her  fright; 
but  she  was  a  brave  little  thing,  and  pressed  the 
lump  down  that  kept  rising  in  her  throat.  This 
man  looked  so  grand,  so  utterly  out  of  reach  in 
his  black  silk-velvet  dressing-gown,  and  the  plush 
smoking-cap,  under  which  his  gray  hair  curled 
in  crisp  rings.  His  eyes  were  piercing  too,  and 
seemed  to  look  her  through  and  through.  Yes, 
she  was  very  brave  in  keeping  her  courage  up 
and  the  tears  down. 

Taking  the  letter,  the  professor  went  towards 
the  window,  where  Nan's  startled,  anxious  glances 
took  in  all  the  glory  of  the  summer  Southern  ver- 
dure. Then  he  put  on  his  gold-rimmed  glasses, 
and  read  as  follows  :  — 


I3O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

DEAR  PROFESSOR  ANDROMO,  —  You  know  I  have  been 
your  pupil  ever  since  I  was  six  years  old  —  that's  for  twelve 
years.  Now  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  you,  a  very  great  favor. 
I  don't  know  that  you  will  care  to  grant  it,  but  I  hope  you 
will. 

Little  Nanny  Gartia,  who  will  hand  you  this  letter,  is  a 
protigte  of  mine.  I  think,  although  a  poor  little  orphan  of 
Italian  parentage,  that  she  is  a  diamond  in  the  rough.  If 
not,  then  surely  I  am  no  judge  of  precious  things  in  human 
nature.  She  has  also  a  violin  that,  it  appears  to  me,  must 
be  of  great  value ;  for  it  has  been  in  her  family  for  nearly  two 
hundred  years.  As  far  as  I  can  learn,  her  great-great-grand- 
father played  upon  it ;  and  it  has  the  appearance  of  extreme 
age,  as  well  as  the  silvery,  resonant  tones  of  a  masterpiece. 
Please,  dear  Professor,  don't  frighten  her  with  your  patri- 
cian manner,  and  tell  me  by  her,  the  very  least  you  will  give 
her  one  lesson  a  week  for ;  that  is,  if  in  your  estimation  she 
is  worth  the  trouble.  I  have  found  her  a  good,  willing  little 
girl.  All  her  family  were  musical,  and  she  seems  gifted  with 
remarkable  genius. 

She  will  show  you  "  King  Solomon." 

Very  truly  your  friend  and  pupil, 

MOLLY  STANLEY. 

"  Ah ! "  and  the  face  took  on  a  gleam  of  good 
nature  as  he  pulled  his  long,  drooping  mustache, 
"  I  can't  refuse  what  my  child  asks  me,  can  I  ? " 
he  looked  up  reflectively.  His  child  she  had 
always  been,  from  the  time  he  first  looked 
over  her  golden  head  at  the  grand  piano,  and 
laughed  because  the  little  feet  could  not  reach 
the  pedals. 

Then  he  cast  a  furtive  glance  at  the  child. 

"Good  eyes,"  he  said  under  his  breath.     Pres- 


THE    PROFESSORS    VERDICT  13! 

ently  he  saw  a  solitary  tear  rolling  over  the  pale 
cheek,  and  the  sight  touched  him. 

"  But  who  in  the  deuce  is  King  Solomon  ? "  he 
asked. 

Her  eyes  lighted  at  the  old  familiar  name. 

"  It's  the  fiddle,  sir,"  she  said. 

"  Ah,  I  thought  so !  You  have  an  old  violin," 
he  added  briskly.  "Want  to  sell?" 

"  Oh,  no,  sir !  it  belonged  to  my  father,  and  — 
my  father  is  dead,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Ah,  so  !  dead  is  he  ?     Did  he  play  ? " 

"  He  played  in  the  orchestra — he  was  a  leader; " 
but  after  his  long  sickness  he  lost  the  place,  and 
at  last  he  had  to  play  in  the  streets  for  mother 
and  me.  Mother  is  dead  too,"  she  added  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  So  !  alone,  are  you  ? " 

The  child  looked  up  to  speak,  drew  a  deep,  sob- 
bing breath,  and  as  her  eyes  filled,  nodded. 

"  Let  me  see  the  fiddle." 

She  gladly  released  the  instrument  from  the  old 
baize  bag,  and  checked  her  sobs. 

He  took  it  in  his  practised  hands,  noticed  the 
depth  and  richness  of  the  varnish  where  varnish 
was  still  left,  and  all  the  minute  and  varied  mat- 
ters of  age,  whistling  softly  to  himself.  The  girl 
recalled  her  courage.  Something  in  his  face  heart- 
ened her. 

"  Where  did  your  father  get  this  instrument  ?  " 
he  asked. 


132  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  He  always  had  it ;  grandfather  and  his  father 
all  played  ;  it's  very  old,  sir,"  she  made  answer. 

He  nodded  several  times.  He  played  a  chord 
on  the  grand  piano,  and  listened  to  the  ghost  of 
a  sigh  that  echoed  on  the  strings  of  the  instru- 
ment as  he  held  it  to  his  ear.  She  remembered 
having  seen  her  father  do  that.  A  great  light 
illumined  his  strong  face. 

"  Do  you  play  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling  down  at  her. 

"  Just  a  little,  sir." 

"  You  hold  it  in  this  way,  I  suppose,"  he  said, 
reversing  it. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  with  a  shocked  look  ;  "  papa  wouldn't 
let  me,  though  I  wanted  to  at  first.  He  said  no 
true  artist  would  play  in  that  fashion."  She  had 
forgotten  all  fear  —  her  eyes  sparkled. 

"  Your  father  was  right.  What  is  the  tone, 
I  wonder  ?  "  he  asked  banteringly.  "  If  I  am  to 
give  you  a  hundred  dollars  for  it,  I  wish  to  know 
how  it  sounds." 

"  I  don't  want  to  sell  it.  It  gives  me  my  living. 
A  hundred  dollars  wouldn't  last  long.  But  some 
day,  perhaps,  I  can  play  with  excellence  —  and  — 
my  father  wouldn't  like  me  to  sell  it." 

"  He's  gone,  you  know,"  was  the  response. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  He  loved  it  so,  I  think  he  stays  near  me  —  to 
protect  it." 

The  answer  seemed  to  amuse  the  professor,  who 
turned  away  to  conceal  a  smile. 


THE    PROFESSORS    VERDICT  133 

"Then,  if  he  is  so  near,  he  will  like  to  hear  you 
play."  She  still  held  the  bow. 

"  Imagine  yourself  out-of-doors,"  he  continued. 
"Look  towards  the  park.  Now  let  me  hear  its 
tone." 

She  placed  the  violin  in  position.  The  man's 
eyes  sparkled.  No  fault  to  be  found  there.  She 
lifted  the  bow,  her  poise  and  carriage  were  both 
correct.  Then  she  drew  the  bow  lightly  but 
firmly  over  the  strings.  One  moment  she  fal- 
tered. Then  she  looked  at  the  square  beyond, 
the  flowers  in  the  window,  the  blue  sky  overhead, 
and  took  courage.  It  was  almost  like  being  on 
the  street. 

The  professor  stood  near,  and  a  little  behind 
her,  his  piercing  eyes  noting  every  movement. 
He  stood  with  folded  arms.  There  was  a  glow  in 
his  face  at  the  first  movement.  She  played  a 
short  Italian  air,  and  well.  Had  he  found  at  last 
what  he  had  been  searching  for  so  long,  —  the 
priceless  pearl  of  genius  ? 

"  Your  father  taught  you  to  hold  the  bow,"  he 
said. 

"  Yes,  sir.  He  was  sick  all  the  time  for  the 
last  year,  and  I  had  to  sing,  so  I  was  too  tired  to 
study  much  ;  but  whenever  I  tried  to  play  "  — 
she  hesitated  —  "  it  came  to  me." 

"What  came  to  you  ?  "  he  asked  with  an  amused, 
almost  comical  smile. 

She   seemed,   searching   for  words.      "  I    don't 


134  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

know,  sir,"  the  child  faltered.  "The  feeling  as  if 
it  knew  what  I  wanted,  and  could  answer  me  like 
another  voice.  So  —  I  learned  to  love  it  —  and 
-and  that's  all  I  know." 

"  It's  all  you  need  to  know.  That  will  carry 
you  through.  So,  my  child,  you  would  like  to 
study,  I  suppose,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  if  I  could !  But  I  haven't  any  money,  only 
to  buy  food  ;  but  I  would  starve  myself  almost,  if 
I  might  only  learn." 

"No  need  of  that,  no  need  of  that,"  the  pro- 
fessor said  smilingly,  to  veil  the  tremor  in  his 
voice.  "  The  money  is  all  right ;  somebody  has 
pledged  to  pay  for  you." 

"  It's  Captain  Molly,  then !  "  cried  the  child, 
with  a  wild  cry  of  delight.  "  Oh,  she's  an  angel !" 
she  went  on  in  irrepressible  gratitude.  "  God 
bless  her  !  God  bless  her  ! " 

"  Captain  !  "  blurted  the  professor,  puzzled. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  she's  in  the  Salvation  Army,"  was 
the  response. 

It  was  too  much  for  the  professor,  who  broke 
into  a  fit  of  laughter  so  boisterous,  so  prolonged, 
that  the  girl,  with  lustrous  eyes  grown  deep  and 
large  with  very  astonishment,  stood  like  one  spell- 
bound. 

"  I'll  be  " (the  reader  can  imagine  what  he 

said).  The  child  heard  worse  profanity  every  day 
of  her  life.  It  did  not  shock  her,  she  was  so  used 
to  it. 


THE  PROFESSOR'S  VERDICT  135 

"I  —  I  heard  something  about  this,"  the  man 
muttered,  the  tears  born  of  excess  of  mirth  still 
standing  on  his  cheeks.  "  O  Lord  !  that  miser- 
able rabble  —  the  music  !  Great  Scott !  and  she 
with  her  sensitive  ears  and  high-breeding  —  the 
palace  and  the  gutter  shaking  hands  !  Well,  by 
all  that's  great  and  good,  tell  me  what  the  women 
will  be  doing  next  !  The  daughter  of  a  banker 
too  —  O  Lord,  Lord  !  " 

"  She's  very  nice,  sir.  She's  beautiful  —  she's 
splendid !  "  said  the  girl,  loyal  and  unafraid,  her 
eyes  glowing  like  flames  of  fire.  "  She  helps  the 
poor ;  she  gives  money  to  the  suffering !  We 
didn't  know  anything  till  she  came  to  Paradise 
Flats,  just  to  see  how  we  lived.  Now  everybody 
goes  to  her;  and  she  tells  them  just  what  to  do, 
and  teaches  them  to  be  good.  Yes,  she  is  an 
angel!"  she  reiterated,  with  burning  cheeks  and 
flaming  eyes.  At  that  moment  the  soul  shone 
out,  and  Nan  was  beautiful. 

The  professor  looked  at  her  gravely. 

"I  knew  Miss  Molly  before  you  were  born, 
child,"  he  said,  all  traces  of  mirth  gone,  and  in 
his  eyes  there  was  a  soft  glow ;  "  and  with  you  I 
say  " —  he  bowed  reverently  —  "  God  bless  her  ! " 

"  How  hard  I  will  try  to  pay  everything  back," 
said  the  child  with  a  glad  voice.  "  My  father 
never  would  get  in  debt — but,"  and  she  drew  a 
long  breath,  "  such  a  debt  as  that  ! " 

"Well,  you  shall  try,  my  child.     It's  going  to 


136  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

be  hard  work,  —  the  technique,  the  positions  ; 
but  you  have  that  which  money  cannot  buy  —  that 
which  you  say  comes  to  you.  It  comes  to  all 
God's  gifted  children.  You  must  give  a  little 
time  twice  a  week.  I  will  teach  you." 

"  You,  sir  !  will  you  ?  "  and  she  placed  both 
hands  on  her  heart.  "  Oh,  how  hard  I  will  work  !  " 

"  Then  come  just  about  this  time,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, "  if  it's  not  too  late." 

"  Late  !  Oh,  sir  !  "  said  this  worldly  child,  "  I'm 
often  out  till  ten,  playing  till  I  earn  enough  to  get 
my  supper." 

"  We'll  see  about  the  supper,"  he  said  gravely. 
"Ten  is  too  late  for  a  child  like  you.  When  you 
are  ever  out  at  that  time  again,  it  shall  be,  God 
willing,  before  a  grand  orchestra.  Take  care  of 
your  violin.;  it  is  worth  a  good  many  hundred 
dollars,  so  cherish  it  as  the  apple  of  your  eye. 
I  cannot  quite  determine  its  age,  that  and  the 
name  of  the  maker  are  so  covered  with  the  marks 
of  time  ;  but  I  will  find  out  some  day.  Who  knows 
but  it  will  make  your  fortune  ? 

"  Give  me  your  name.  Gartia  —  a  name  to  be 
found  in  the  annals  of  Italian  music.  Paradise 
Flat  —  umph  !  umph  !  Miss  Stanley  is  in  Para- 
dise !  Yes ;  wherever  she  is,  it  is  Paradise,"  he 
said  gravely.  "  And  when  next  I  see  the  Salva- 
tion Army,  with  its  hideous  harmonies,  I  will  " 
—  he  lifted  his  cap  impressively  —  "take  off  my 
hat  to  it,  upon  my  soul,  I  will ! 


THE  PROFESSORS  VERDICT         137 

"  As  for  those  Flats  —  I  know  ;  it's  one  of  those 
great  manholes  where  people  are  caught  like  mice 
in  a  trap,  and  crushed  to  death  or  burnt  to  cinders, 

if  anything  happens.  Colonel  T built  them, 

and  may  God  have  mercy  on  his  soul ;  I  wouldn't. 
His  daughter  is  one  of  my  best  pupils,  with  a 
five-hundred  dollar  violin,  and  a  one-dollar  talent," 
he  added  grimly  in  an  undertone.  "  Pillars  of  the 
church  too.  Rot  !  "  he  went  on,  with  a  satanic 
expression. 

"  Now  hasten,  little  one ;  if  I  give  lessons  you 
must  practise  day  and  night,  night  and  day.  I'm 
a  very  fiend  in  my  requirements." 

"  I  will  try  very  hard,  sir,"  she  said,  thinking 
dubiously  of  the  crowded  tenement  house,  her 
means  of  earning  a  precarious  living,  the  coarse 
jibes  born  of  envy  of  those  with  whom  she  dared 
not  associate. 

"  And  if  you  are  in  difficulty  about  understand- 
ing musical  matters,  you  are  to  come  to  me.  Do 
you  hear  ? " 

Did  she  not  hear  ? 

"  And  don't  you  let  go  of  that  instrument. 
Some  connoisseurs  may  fancy  it,  and  offer  you  a 
big  sum.  Don't  you  let  it  go  for  a  thousand  dol- 
lars, remember.  One  of  these  days  I'll  get  it  done 
up,  when  I  can  find  any  one  with  brains  enough 
to  do  it,  and  you  have  learned  sufficiently  well  to 
handle  it." 

"  And  some  time,  maybe,  I  can  pay  you  back," 
she  said,  smiling,  all  Italia  in  her  eyes. 


138  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Tut,  tut  —  I  didn't  want  pay  from  you.  I 
make  the  rich  pay  me,  but  genius  /  pay;"  and 
he  laughed  mellowly.  "  Tell  Miss  Stanley  it's  all 
right.  I'll  see  her.  I  won't  take  a  penny,  not  a 
penny.  Only  once  in  a  hundred  years,  maybe, 
we  come  across  a  case  like  that,"  he  said  after 
she  had  gone,  as  he  walked  the  floor,  and  rubbed 
his  hands  with  much  inward  satisfaction.  "  Only 
once  in  a  hundred  years  !  Not  a  penny  —  not 
one  !  " 


A    STURDY    UNBELIEVER  139 


CHAPTER   XX 

A    STURDY    UNBELIEVER 

With  honor  while  they  heard  him  tell 
His  strange,  strange  story. 

NAN  went  straight  home,  and  up-stairs  to  Miss 
Stanley's  room.  She  found  her  best  friend  look- 
ing languid,  suffering  with  a  slight  headache. 

"  O  Miss  Molly,  don't  get  sick,  don't  get  sick 
and  die  ! "  the  girl  exclaimed  in  a  very  agony  of 
apprehension. 

Molly  laughed.  "  My  dear,  it's  nothing  danger- 
ous," she  said.  "  At  home  I  suffered  much  more 
than  I  do  now.  I  had  nothing  to  do,  you  see." 

Then  Nan  went  into  the  merits  of  the  case. 
She  described  the  professor  as  if  he  had  been 
under  a  flashlight,  and  gave  Molly  all  the  details 
of  the  interview. 

"  And  now  I  must  practise,  you  see  ;  so  what  am 
I  going  to  do?  There's  the  daily  bread." 

"  I've  been  thinking  that  out,"  said  Molly  ;  "  and 
this  is  what  I  propose.  My  meals  are  sent  in  ;  but 
I  have  my  own  dishes,  and  as  much  as  I  love  work, 
I  hate  washing  dishes.  Now,  as  there  is  plenty  of 
food  for  two,  I  propose  that  you  help  me  eat  my 
meals,  and  wash  the  dishes  to  pay  for  it." 


140  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  O  Miss  Molly,  how  good  you  are ! "  faltered 
the  child. 

"  Yes ;  good  to  myself,"  laughed  Molly.  "  I 
don't  like  you  to  go  on  the  streets  in  all  weathers ; 
and  if  the  professor  has  taken  you  in  hand,  he  will 
be  very  exacting.  I  can  leave  the  key  of  my  room 
with  you  when  I  go  out ;  and  you  may  practise 
here,  out  of  hearing.  At  other  times,  why  you 
must  catch  your  opportunities." 

How  she  caught  the  opportunities  afterward 
was  due  to  the  quick  wit  of  the  little  Irishwoman. 

"  Go  to  the  top  of  the  house,  deary ;  it  lets  out 
by  a  ladder,  and  that's  the  place  in  the  blessed 
summer-time.  Take  airly  in  the  morning,  ma- 
vourneen.  Sure,  it's  no  one  could  stop  you  there 
savin'  the  wind  or  the  storm." 

When  Nan  had  gone,  Molly  lay  down  on  the 
lounge  to  rest.  Did  she  miss  her  cool,  dark 
room  ?  the  loving  care  of  her  maid  ?  the  hearty 
condolence  of  her  father  ?  the  scents  of  sweet 
flowers  and  odorous  perfumes  ? 

Yes,  often,  particularly  when  she  was  sick  ;  but 
she  missed  them  in  her  own  sweet  way,  and  took 
up  the  daily  details  of  her  present  condition  as 
crosses  that  must  •  come  into  the  life  of  every 
worker  in  His  cause,  as  making  her  a  sharer  in  the 
sorrows  of  the  world,  a  more  earnest  co-worker  in 
His  vineyard.  Spurn  her  ideas  as  chimerical  if  you 
will.  Her  pure  woman's  soul  was  in  earnest,  ter- 
ribly in  earnest.  She  worked  with  those  who, 


A    STURDY    UNBELIEVER  14! 

bowed  under  the  iron  bonds  of  daily  routine,  were 
hindered  hand  and  foot.  She  knew  what  it  meant 
when  the  voices  of  her  comrades  joined  in  the 
words,  — 

"  Help  for  the  perishing." 

They  were  all  round  her,  held  fast,  often  chained 
down,  by  the  trammels  of  guilt,  as  well  as  poverty. 

"  And  yet,"  she  said  sometimes,  "  if  God  is  all 
love,  he  is  in  every  soul  that  suffers,  good  and 
bad,  high  and  low ;  but  in  my  world  they  try  to 
turn  him  out,  while  these  poor  hearts  of  toil  and 
ignorance  give  him  boisterous  but  well-meant  wel- 
come as  soon  as  they  understand.  Let  the  Church 
wear  its  robes  of  velvet ;  it  is  well,  perhaps,  even 
though  they  shut  out  the  poor.  We  will  take  pos- 
session of  his  suffering  people,  in  the  name  and 
by  the  Army  of  the  Lord.  But  "  —  she  always 
ended  —  "I  would  so  like  to  see  papa !  " 

Ensign  Harry  came  in  very  much  flushed. 

"  O  Molly,  dearest !  "  she  said  with  a  sigh  and  a 
sob,  "he  saw  me — saw  me  just  as  I  am,  poke 
bonnet  and  all.  It  was  this  morning  in  the  street. 
He  was  alone,  and  he  followed.  A  higher  strength 
upheld  me.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  triumphed  in 
the  fact  that  he  had  to  tramp  down  these  wretched 
streets,  and  listen  to  the  music  of  the  Salvation 
Army.  And,  dear,  he  followed  us  to  the  hall 
where  we  held  an  experience  meeting,  and  came 
in  and  sat  down.  How  could  I  but  look  at  him  ? 
And  it  was  my  turn  to  give  out  the  hymns,  and 


142  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

it  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  my  voice  steady ;  but 
I  did  !  I  did  !  When  I  sat  down  his  profile  was 
towards  me  ;  and  oh,  my  dear,  I  studied  it,  and  felt 
a  little  comforted.  You  are  right  —  I  fear  he  is 
weak  — that  I  should  have  looked  for  bread  and 
received  a  stone  instead.  But  oh,  my  poor,  weak 
heart !  It  did  beat  so  ! 

"  Well,  Molly,  listen ;  I  have  still  something 
more  to  tell.  Most  of  our  people  felt  proud  to 
see  a  real  minister  in  our  midst.  I  suppose  they 
looked  for  something  from  him,  some  words  of 
appreciation  or  comfort ;  but  he  sat  there,  stock 
still.  I  know  he  was  only  waiting  for  the  meeting 
to  close. 

"  Then  somebody  rose  at  the  back  of  the  house, 
a  workingman  by  his  clothes,  but  ah,  such  a 
noble,  beautiful,  strong  face !  and  he  began  to 
talk  —  what  do  you  think  ? " 

"  I'm  sure  I  can't  tell,"  said  Molly,  changing 
the  position  of  her  pillow.  "Go  on — no,  you 
don't  tire,  you  amuse  and  rest  me,"  she  said  at 
Ensign  Harry's  deprecating  gesture. 

"  Atheism  !  "  exclaimed  Ensign  Harry,  with  a 
look  of  horror.  "  Oh,  dear,  yes  !  but  he  declared 
himself  a  seeker  after  truth  in  a  fearfully  honest 
and  sincere  fashion.  He  said  he  had  been  an  ob- 
server of  all  religions,  and  told  his  experiences  with, 
and  disgust  at,  them  all ;  but  said  he  was  perfectly 
willing  to  be  set  right  —  in  fact,  that  was  why  he 
had  come  into  the  meeting.  He  wanted  light. 


A    STURDY    UNBELIEVER  143 

"  Now  I  expected  great  things.  I  felt  instinc- 
tively that  George  Flagler,  with  his  experience 
and  knowledge  of  the  Bible,  would  rise  at  once,  and 
attempt  to  enlighten  this  good-looking  stranger ; 
but  what  occurred?  He  sat  quite  still,  with  an 
amused  look  in  his  face  that  made  me  almost  de- 
test him.  Why,  everybody  thought  he  would 
answer  ;  and  so  there  was  silence  for  a  time.  "  Then 
one  of  our  lieutenants  spoke  of  the  distinguished 
stranger  present,  —  bless  you,  not  one  of  them 
connected  his  visit  with  me,  for  no  word  or  look 
of  recognition  had  passed  between  us,  — and  hoped 
he  would  say  a  few  words  in  defence  of  the  belief 
so  dear  to  us  all ;  but  the  man  only  shook  his 
head,  and  in  the  politest,  most  ceremonious  man- 
ner, declined. 

"Then,  Molly,  I  felt  a  glowing  shame  and  in- 
dignation ;  and  presently  Hugh  King,  you  know 
him,  our  best  speaker,  rose,  and  I  suppose  did  the 
best  he  could,  but  I  tell  you  candidly  his  argu- 
ments sounded  tame.  The  fact  is,  they  were  all 
handicapped  by  the  presence  of  this  '  distinguished ' 
stranger.  For  my  part,  I  could  not  stay;  so  I 
slipped  out,  and  came  home.  Judge  of  my  sur- 
prise when  I  saw  this  same  atheist  going  up-stairs 
here  at  Paradise  Flats.  I  could  not  resist  the  im- 
pulse to  speak  to  him,  and  he  was  so  polite  and 
gentlemanly  that  my  heart  warmed  towards  him. 
He  said  he  had  heard  of  us  both,  you  and  me,  that 
he  was  just  from  over  the  water,  and  that  made 


144  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

me  feel  acquainted  at  once.  As  for  George  Flag- 
ler," — she  paused  a  moment,  various  emotions 
visible  in  her  countenance,  —  "the  idol  has  fallen, 
and  become  a  very  common  man  of  clay.  But, 
indeed,  Molly,  we  must  try  to  help  this  stranger; 
we  must,  indeed  !  He  is  a  seeker  after  truth ;  and 
then  —  I  think  his  face  will  please  you.  It  is  a 
fine  English  face.  I  venture  to  predict  that  he 
will  be  a  great  acquisition  to  our  little  receptions." 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Molly.  She  was  thinking 
just  then  of  her  father  and  of  Lucy. 

"  So  Mr.  Flagler  did  not  get  a  chance  to  speak 
to  you  ? "  she  said. 

"  No ;  and  I  didn't  mean  he  should.  What 
does  he  want  to  follow  me  for  ?  to  explain  his 
reasons  for  marrying  another  woman?  He  had 
no  business  in  the  meeting  ;  perhaps  it  furnished 
him  a  little  amusement.  Even  if  it  did,  he  must 
have  seen  how  earnest  we  were,  how  anxious  to 
make  every  word  tell.  No,  let  him  stay  with  his 
rich  wife,  he — the  weaver's  son.  She  is  welcome 
to  him.  My  eyes  are  opened  now.  She  is  wel- 
come ; "  and  her  lip  curled  a  little.  At  the  same 
time  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Duty  was  now  her  master,  her  ideal  of  every- 
thing connected  with  the  Army, 

Never  before  had  she  been  so  zealous.  Only 
yesterday  she  had  discovered  a  case  of  typhoid 
fever.  Mrs.  Ryder,  the  tailoress,  had  been  sick  for 
a  week,  and  no  one  knew  it.  Ensign  Harry  went 


A    STURDY    UNBELIEVER  145 

to  work,  brought  a  doctor  from  the  Army,  and  a 
benevolent  nursing  sister,  took  up  a  contribution, 
and  established  a  night-watch.  Sanitary  rules 
were  put  in  force,  good  cooking  and  attendance 
followed. 

She  had  found  two  children  in  a  deserted  tene- 
ment house.  Mother  dead  ;  father  worse  —  drunk. 
The  children  were  dying  of  starvation,  pale,  sick, 
and  emaciated.  There  was  no  rest  for  her  till, 
after  consultation  with  the  League,  an  associa- 
tion formed  within  the  Army,  the  children  were 
placed  in  clean  beds  in  a  children's  hospital.  The 
father's  condition  was  inquired  into,  and  his  con- 
version from  the  love  of  strong  drink  attempted. 

And  so,  day  after  day,  such  cases  were  hunted 
out ;  and  no  effort  was  too  great,  no  case  too 
revolting,  to  enlist  her  sympathy  and  personal 
supervision. 


146  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER    XXI 

THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS 

Once  more  the  old  familiar  scenes 
Give  pleasure  to  the  eye. 

MOLLY  had  bought  some  pretty  toys  for  little 
Sebastian.  First  she  shook  a  rattle,  and  then 
made  the  tin  trumpet  squeak.  Then  she  bounced 
a  ball,  and  then  caught  the  baby  up  and  almost 
smothered  him  with  kisses. 

"He's  the  beauty  of  all  the  world!"  she  said, 
laughing  and  hugging  him.  "I  give  you  credit, 
Reine,  for  keeping  him  as  sweet  as  a  peach.  You 
make  a  splendid  little  mother !  Now,  who  is  this 
child's  grandmother?"  and  she  looked  at  Reine 
with  searching  eyes. 

"  My  mother  is  in  heaven,"  said  Reine. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  your  husband's 
family?"  Molly  asked.  "This  child  ought  to  have 
a  large  circle  of  relations,  and  a  rich  godfather  or 
godmother.  What  delicate  coloring !  what  spir- 
ited features !  Who  are  his  grandparents  on  his 
father's  side  ? " 

"They  are  all  in  England,  if  he  has  any,"  Reine 
replied.  "  Sebastian  never  will  talk;  oh,  no,  never 


THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS  147 

with  me,  nor  with  any  one,  about  his  family  ;  but 
sometimes,  when  he  is  not  quite  himself,  he  talks 
of  lords  and  ladies  and  great  people  as  if  they  were 
his  daily  companions.  I  wish  you  could  see  him 
then  —  but  no  —  I  don't.  It  would  make  you  so 
sorry." 

"  Then  you  don't  know  whether  he  has  a  mother 
or  father  living  ?  " 

The  little  woman  shook  her  head.  "No;  if  I 
ask  him,  he  turns  the  talk  to  something  else.  I 
think  he  has  been  used  to  fine  surroundings  and 
great  ladies  and  elegant  homes,  for  sometimes  he 
almost  persuades  me  that  we  are  living  in  some 
old  castle.  But  he  has  begun  to  paint." 

She  went  to  the  closet,  and  lifted  a  small  canvas 
already  glorified  by  the  touch  of  genius. 

"  Sometimes  I'm  half  sorry  when  he  gets  work- 
ing," she  said  ;  "  for  it  seems  to  make  him  gloomy. 
His  good  spirits  are  gone,  and  he  don't  stick  to  it. 
You  see,  everything  is  against  him,  —  the  light, 
the  materials  ;  and  he  grinds  his  paints  on  bits  of 
stone  and  old  papers.  Poor  Sebastian  !  "  and  she 
sighed  from  her  heart.  "I  wonder  whom  he  left 
behind  him  in  Old  England  ?  Oh,  but  I  forgot 
to  show  you  the  picture  he  finished  !  It  is  Baby ! " 
and  she  held  up  the  panel  upon  which  the  lovely 
face  of  the  younger  Sebastian  shone  out  from  a 
cloud,  as  the  face  of  an  angel  glorified. 

"  Oh,  I  must  have  that  picture  !  "  cried  Molly  ; 
"  what  will  he  sell  it  for  ?  " 


148  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  You  will  think  it  too  much,"  said  Reine,  turn- 
ing her  still  charming  little  head  now  this  way, 
now  that,  tenderly,  like  a  mother  bird,  and  viewing 
the  picture  at  all  points. 

"  What !  has  he  set  a  price  on  it  ? "  asked  Molly. 

"Would  you  think  fifteen  dollars  too  much?" 
asked  Reine,  "  for  you  f  " 

"  Too  much  !  Why,  I  have  given  twice  that  for 
a  pretty  frame ! "  said  Molly  eagerly.  "Too  much ! 
why,  I  will  give  twice  that  at  once,"  and  she 
counted  out  the  money. 

On  the  following  day  the  banker  received  the 
picture  accompanied  by  a  note  :  — 

DEAR  FATHER  [it  read],  —  Enclosed  please  find  a  like- 
ness of  Sebastian,  a  little  child  born  in  a  cellar.  If  it  can  be 
matched  in  any  aristocratic  home,  I  should  like  you  to  find 
me  the  picture.  I  ask  as  a  special  favor  that  you  will  frame 
it,  and  hang  it  up  in  what  used  to  be  my  room.  The  man 
who  painted  it  is  the  child's  father,  and  you  can  see  for  your- 
self that  he  knows  how  to  handle  the  brush.  But  he  is  de- 
graded from  hismanhood  through  his  vicious  habit  of  drinking. 
He  keeps  sober  for  a  week  at  a  time,  then  comes  the  tempta- 
tion and  the  fall.  But  even  when  quite  under  the  influence 
of  liquor  he  is  kind  and  good  to  his  wife,  and  imagines  him- 
self amidst  the  most  splendid  surroundings.  I  never  read 
or  heard  of  a  like  case ;  but  we  are  helping  that,  and,  as  the 
habit  is  not  quite  as  masterful  as  it  was,  we  may  possibly, 
through  his  charming  child,  bring  him  to  his  senses.  Dear 
father,  I  am  very  happy  in  my  work.  It  is  much  better  than 
to  sit  in  our  beautiful  parlors  and  sing,  "  Rescue  the  perish- 
ing." Somebody  has  got  to  do  the  rescuing;  why  not  I, 
when  my  heart  is  in  it  ?  But  I  do  confess  to  you  that  I  long 


THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS  149 

to  see  you.  Dear  father,  let  me  come  to  you  sometimes.  It 
need  not  be  till  after  dark,  and  I  will  be  as  conventional  as  I 
can.  At  all  events,  you  shall  not  be  troubled  with  the  poke 
bonnet.  Can  I  come?  Say  yes,  like  the  good  father  you  are, 
and  then  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.  I  promise  you  I  will 
never  trouble  you  in  the  daytime. 

Your  letter  was  a  delightful  surprise,  short  as  is  was.  Oh, 
the  romance  of  the  annals  of  the  poor  !  I  have  something  to 
tell  you  concerning  the  lecture  of  your  English  celebrity,  Rev. 
Mr.  Flagler.  You  wouldn't  think  to  see  the  little  hidy  I  was 
with  that  night  that  she  had  anything  in  common  with  him ; 
and  yet  she  was  engaged  to  be  married  to  him  —  not  so  many 
years  ago.  But  somebody  is  coming,  I  must  close  my  brief 
note.  Good-day,  dear,  dear  father. 

From  your  MOLLY. 

This  letter  found  the  banker  in  his  usual  loun- 
ging-place. 

"  Bless  her  heart ! "  he  muttered,  with  moist 
eyes.  "  I  was  a  brute  to  send  her  away  ;  but  con- 
ditions are  conditions,  and  I  must  hold  her  to  her 
word.  But  to  allow  her  to  come  here  some  even- 
ing when  I  am  alone  —  why,  it  would  be  a  treat 
to  look  into  her  sweet  eyes  for  five  minutes.  And 
if  she  married  and  went  to  Africa — why,  then  I 
might  never  see  her  again.  I  suppose  if  she  does 
marry  she  will  gravitate  to  India,  or  Africa,  or 
China,  or  Japan.  Talk  of  the  heathen  Chinee  ! " 
he  muttered,  as  he  applied  his  pearl-handled  pen- 
knife—  her  gift  the  very  last  Christmas — to  cut- 
ting the  strings  in  which  the  picture  was  bound ; 
"  they're  ages  ahead  of  us  in  some  things,"  he 
laughed  softly,  "particularly  in  China,  where  I've 


150  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

heard  they  drown  most  of  their  girl-babies,  thereby 
saving  themselves  a  good  deal  of  trouble  in  the 
future." 

Another  moment  and  Lucy  tripped  in,  very 
fair  in  her  white  draperies,  her  eyes  shining,  her 
cheeks  glowing,  truly  a  beautiful  creature. 

"  Oh,  what  a  lovely,  lovely  face  !  "  she  cried,  as 
the  picture  came  out  of  its  wraps.  "  Oh,  what  a 
heavenly  face  !  Whose  child  is  it  ?  I  never  saw 
so  beautiful  a  creature  ! " 

"Molly  writes  me  that  it  is  one  of  her  poor 
brats  born  in  a  cellar.  Its  father  is  an  artist  in 
his  better  moments,  and  in  one  of  them  painted 
that." 

"  Oh ! "  and  she  surveyed  it  with  languid  in- 
terest, the  information  imparted  serving  to  cool 
her  raptures;  "but  then,  isn't  it  really  beauti- 
ful ?  It  must  be  flattered  ;  of  course  it  is.  Molly 
wouldn't  say  that.  It  might  answer  for  a  fancy 
picture.  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ? " 

"  Have  it  framed,  and  put  in  the  room  that  used 
to  be  hers,"  he  replied  with  sarcastic  emphasis. 

"  Oh,  well,  it  may  be  hers  again  before  very 
long.  I  have  had  an  offer,  Uncle  George." 

"An  offer!"  he  stared  incredulously.  His 
thoughts  flew  to  a  young  officer  who  had  often 
been  her  escort,  a  man  who  had  nothing  but  his 
pay,  with  whom  Lucy  had  seemed  very  much  in- 
fatuated. She  might  have  to  rough  it  if  she  mar- 
ried him,  and  she  was  not  the  girl  to  do  that. 


THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS  15! 

"Yes,  uncle  dear;  an  offer  from  Mr.  Philip 
Maybury." 

"  Oh  !  "  he  drew  a  long  breath.  "  A  man  old 
enough  to  be  your  grandfather !  Well,  I  wish 
you  joy.  Of  course  you  accepted  him.  He's 
enormously  rich." 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  accepted  him,"  she  made  reply  in 
a  matter-of-fact  way.  "We  are  going  abroad  for 
our  wedding  trip  —  a  consummation  that  I  have 
longed  for,  but  never  dreamed  I  should  have  the 
money  to  afford." 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  don't  believe  you're  sell- 
ing yourself,"  her  uncle  said  with  almost  brutal 
abruptness.  "  What  does  your  father  say  ? " 

"  Father  doesn't  know  it ;  but  I  imagine  he  will 
be  glad,  and  I  know  the  boys  will.  Of  course  I 
shall  bring  them  all  handsome  presents,  and  I 
hope  the  dear  old  man  will  be  generous." 

"  Clings  to  a  dime  closer  than  I  would  to  a 
thousand  dollars.  You  had  better  bargain  for 
your  pocket-money  beforehand,"  said  her  uncle 
coolly.  "  He  has  a  grandchild  as  old  as  you  are, 
who  hopes,  I  dare  say,  to  inherit  all  his  money. 
Poor  devil !  I  rather  pity  him  when  he  knows 
how  it  stands." 

"  He  must  take  things  as  they  come,"  said 
Lucy ;  and  wheeling  about,  her  thoughts  full  of 
the  fancied  grandeur  of  her  future  position,  she 
left  the  room. 

"A    sacrifice    on    both    sides,"    muttered   the 


152  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

banker.  "  Lucy  to  her  vanity  and  love  of  ease 
-  Molly  to  her  queer  ideas  of  duty ;  but  on  the 
whole,  I  don't  know  but  I  would  rather  take 
Molly's  chances.  She'll  come  to  her  senses 
sooner." 

The  picture  was  hung.  It  seemed  to  shed  a 
halo  over  the  delicately  tinted  wall ;  and  the 
banker,  who  had  never  before  taken  any  special 
interest  in  any  painting,  stole  in  sometimes,  when 
the  room  was  open,  to  look  at  it. 

Was  it  possible  that  children  as  fair  as  that 
grew  into  street  arabs,  dirty  venders  of  newspa- 
pers, and  even  hapless,  hopeless  thieves?  The 
question  troubled  him  a  little  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life.  It  troubled  him  once  again  when  the 
eloquent  rector  of  St.  Paul's  gave  out  for  his  text 
on  the  following  Sunday  :  — 

"  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  ? "  and  proved  that 
he  was. 

He  had  not  answered  Molly's  letter  yet.  That 
night  he  wrote  her  specifying  the  time,  even  the 
hour,  on  a  certain  night  when  Lucy  was  engaged 
for  some  fashionable  party,  and  he  wanted  his 
child  to  himself. 

When  she  left  him  it  was  August ;  now  it  was 
April,  and  in  all  that  time  he  had  only  seen  her 
once.  How  his  heart  hungered  to  hear  her  voice  ; 
his  ear  was  alive  to  the  slightest  sound.  When 
he  heard  her  step  he  could  not  keep  his  emotion 
down,  and  in  another  moment  she  was  in  his  arms. 


THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS  153 

"  Dearest,  dearest !  "  was  all  she  could  say,  and 
he  could  say  nothing. 

"  How  bright  everything  looks !  My  cousin 
must  be  a  good  housekeeper,"  was  her  first  com- 
ment, as  she  moved  from  one  familiar  place  to 
another. 

"  Your  cousin  is  a  blanked  humbug,"  was  his  re- 
ply. "  I've  had  a  housekeeper  for  three  months." 

"Why,  papa !  and  I  never  knew  it." 

"  How  should  you,  when  you  chose  to  desert  me 
and  set  up  your  own  housekeeping  ?  Sit  down, 
young  lady,  where  I  can  see  you." 

She  obeyed  him,  and  he  looked  her  critically 
over. 

"  I  don't  notice  that  you've  lost  any  flesh,"  he 
said. 

"  Oh,  no !  I  weigh  more  than  I  did  when  I  left 
here,"  she  answered  in  a  quiet  manner,  no  re- 
straint in  her  voice.  "  My  work  agrees  with  me, 
though  at  times  it  is  very  trying.  We  are  doing 
a  great  deal  of  good,  papa." 

"I  suppose  you  are  sure  of  what- you  assert?" 
her  father  replied.  "I  am  not  a  religious  man; 
some  would  call  me  non-religious.  I  don't  remem- 
ber that  I  ever  felt  very  acutely  for  the  woes  of 
others.  Whenever  I  have  let  my  heart  run  away 
with  me,  I  have  simply  made  enemies.  I  lent 
John  McGruder  ten  thousand  dollars  to  help  him 
along  once  —  I  don't  believe  I  have  a  more  bitter 
enemy  in  the  world  than  that  same  John.  I  tell 


154  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

you,  if  you  warm  the  frozen  viper,  he'll  turn  and 
strike  you." 

"But  all  men  are  not  vipers,"  said  Molly.  "I 
grant  that  in  your  world,  and  in  your  business, 
which  are  both  as  distinct  from  the  world  of  the 
laboring  poor  as  two  classes  can  be,  you  may  find 
people  who  are  all  the  time  fighting  for  the  top- 
most round,  who  envy  and  hate  all  who  are  above 
them  ;  but  among  the  miserable  denizens  of  the 
other  under-world  I  have  found  gratitude,  probity, 
honor,  and  charity.  You  have  no  idea  how  willing 
they  are  to  help  each  other  —  how  they  give  half 
of  their  little  all,  and  sometimes  the  whole,  to 
those  who  are  worse  off  than  themselves.  I  have 
seen  even  little  children  do  this,  and  it  makes  me 
honor  the  poor.  The  rich  are  so  often  idle  and 
luxurious  —  yes,  and  envious.  The  finer  qualities 
are  not  half  so  inherent  in  your  world,  papa,  as  in 
mine." 

"They  are,  doubtless,  confined  to  the  slums," 
was  the  sarcastic  rejoinder. 

"  I  never  was  so  happy  in  my  life,"  said  Molly 
with  enthusiasm,  as  she  leaned  back  in  the  easy- 
chair. 

"Thank  you,  my  dear,"  her  father  said,  with 
a  profound  bow. 

"  Because,  you  see,"  she  said  intensely,  "  I  have 
all  my  time  occupied.  At  home  —  well,  every- 
thing is  delightful  here,  but  then  I  had  hours  and 
hours  of  idleness.  Suppose  I  made  calls,  the  talk 


THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS  155 

was  vapid,  the  thing  was  a  quid  pro  qtw.  You 
knew  that  the  call  would  be  returned  with  just  so 
much  ceremony.  Suppose  I  went  shopping,  there 
were  the  same  counters,  the  same  faces,  the  same 
goods  ;  and  it  was  so  with  parties,  receptions, 
balls,  over  and  over,  round  and  round,  —  no  new 
faces,  houses  just  like  ours,  men  we  knew,  women 
we  knew,  children  we  knew ;  and  even  in  church 
there  was  always  that  deplorable  sameness.  I 
don't  mean  in  the  service ;  I  love  that. 

"  But  now  scarcely  a  day  that  we  do  not  find 
some  new  need,  want,  penitent  —  somebody  hun- 
gering for  a  word  of  sympathy ;  somebody  dying 
for  a  little  appreciation ;  somebody  hiding  a  tal- 
ent because  he  has  neither  money  nor  kindly 
words  of  help.  The  wretched  are  relieved,  the 
miserable  are  encouraged.  Oh,  it  would  do  you 
good  to  see  the  faces  of  the  wretched  light  into 
smiles  !  And  they  try  so  hard  —  oh,  how  they  do 
struggle !  The  only  sorrow  I  have  in  the  world 
is  being  parted  from  you.  But  then  I  can  think 
of  you  and  bless  you.  I  can  place  you  here  in 
this  dear  old  room,  know  just  where  you  sit,  what 
you  are  doing,  almost  always  after  business 
hours.  When  did  you  hear  last  from  Russell 
Stacey  ? "  she  asked,  the  enthusiasm  falling  out 
of  her  voice. 

"  Haven't  heard  a  word  from  him  for  a  month. 
Shouldn't  wonder  if  he  found  it  worth  his  while 
to  stay  abroad,"  was  the  answer.  "  Maybe  he  has 


156  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

gone  into  slum-work  in  London.  There's  plenty 
of  it." 

"  No ;  it  isn't  in  him,"  said  Molly  with  some 
heat;  "and  yet,  what  opportunities  he  will  miss  ! 
Fancy  him  a  hanger-on  of  wealth  and  fashion, 
when  he  might  make  a  brilliant  record  for  him- 
self." 

"  He  ought  to  have  been  a  Salvation  Army  cap- 
tain," said  the  banker,  stretching  his  feet  a  little. 
"  That  would  have  been  glory." 

"Indeed  it  would  —  true  glory!  He  might  at 
all  events  practise  his  profession,  even  if  he  has 
plenty  of  money,  and  do  some  good  in  the  world. 
You  are  not  lazy,  papa;  but  he  is,  —  lazy,  hand- 
some, and  good-for-nothing.  Oh,  how  I  hate  such 
people,  and  what  a  record  they  are  making  for 
eternity!" 

The  banker  moved  uneasily. 

"That  seems  to  be  a  cardinal  feature  of  your 
theory." 

"  Eternity  ?  Why  not,  since  we  must  live  on, 
whether  we  would  or  not  ? " 

"  What  do  you  know  about  it  ?  " 

"  O  papa !  don't  let's  go  over  the  old  contro- 
versy," said  Molly,  trembling  a  little.  "  Remem- 
ber, I  am  here  as  your  visitor  for  a  short  time 
only.  You  must  be  very  polite  to  me.  Where's 
Lu  ? " 

"  Gone  to  some  party.  Now,  there's  a  girl  to 
whom  such  things  are  beginning,  ending,  and  all. 


THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS  157 

She's  only  happy  when  enjoying  the  calls  and 
routs  of  fashion.  By  the  way,  she  is  going  to  be 
married." 

"  Married  !  —  Lu  !  "  There  was  consternation 
in  her  voice. 

"Yes  ;  and  guess  to  whom  ? " 

"  O  dear  me,  I  can't !  Why,  I  had  intended  her 
for  Russell  Stacey.  Please  tell  me  who  it  is." 

He  told  her. 

She  knew  him,  —  bald,  decrepit,  miserly,  —  and 
held  up  her  hands. 

"  Poor  girl !  how  I  pity  her  !  "  she  said  in  tones 
of  commiseration.  "  She  couldn't  do  worse.  He's 
a  cruel  old  man." 

The  talk  drifted  on.  Molly  found  herself  de- 
scribing one  of  her  particularly  eccentric  compan- 
ions, —  Sebastian  ;  and  the  banker  found  himself 
listening  with  more  interest  than  he  had  supposed 
possible. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  the  banker  asked. 

"  Nobody  knows.  Some  six  weeks  ago  a  car- 
riage—  a  handsome  carriage  —  stopped  before  Par- 
adise Flats.  It  don't  often  happen,  and  of  course 
the  inmates  were  all  agog.  Presently  word  came 
up  to  me  that  a  lady  wished  to  speak  to  me,  and 
I  invited  her  up  to  my  room.  She  came,  a  slight 
figure,  dressed  in  deep  mourning  of  the  finest  tex- 
ture. I  knew  at  once  by  her  language  that  she 
was  English,  and  a  lady  in  language  and  manner. 

"  '  I  have  heard  of  you,'  she  said  in  a  very  sweet 


158  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

voice,  'and  am  here  to  inquire  after  a  friend  of 
mine  —  at  least  we  used  to  be  friends.  His  name 
is  Bassett,  Sebastian  Bassett ;  and  I  learn  that  he 
lives  in  this  house.' 

"'Yes,'  I  said,  'he  does  —  with  his  wife  and 
child.' 

"  '  His  — wife  !  and  child  ! '  she  repeated  ;  and 
I  could  see  under  the  black  veil  how  white  she 
grew.  'Then — he  —  is — married!' 

" '  He  has  a  very  sweet  little  wife,'  was  my 
answer,  '  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  children 
I  ever  saw.' 

"  For  a  little  time  she  was  silent,  but  in  that 
silence  I  knew  there  was  anguish.  I  pitied  her, 
yet  not  knowing  why. 

"  '  And  —  his  —  habits  '  —  she  still  questioned, 
in  a  faint  voice. 

"  I  told  her  as  carefully  as  I  could,  or  rather 
was  beginning  to  tell  her,  when  she  broke  in  upon 
me,  — 

"  '  Don't  say  one  word  about  it,  unless  there  is  — 
improvement,'  she  went  on.  '  From  his  boyhood 
he  had  a  passion  for  drink,  which  was  fostered  and 
encouraged  by  the  habits  of  his  family.  Three 
times  he  has  reformed  — three  times  he  has  raised 
the  hopes  of  those  who  love  him  —  three  times 
has  given  us  his  promise  of  a  thorough  reforma- 
tion, and  of  a  great  and  prosperous  future.-  At 
last  he  left  England, — that  was  four  years  ago, — 
saying  that  he  should  lose  himself  in  the  wilds  of 


THE    FACE    ON    CANVAS  159 

America.  But  we  have  hoped  against  hope,  and 
are  still  determined  to  save  him  if  we  can.  Finally 
we  have  traced  him  to  this  place.  Married  !  And 
what  kind  of  a  woman  is  his  wife,  that  she  could 
marry  him  f '  her  voice  faltered. 

" '  A  very  sweet  and  pretty  little  woman/  was 
my  answer;  'kind  to  all  his  moods  —  not  a  lady, 
perhaps,  in  your  sense  of  the  word,  or  in  mine, 
but  still  —  well  —  as  a  woman,  far,  far  above  him 
as  a  man.' 

"  '  And  still  he  grovels ! '  she  said. 

"  '  There  is  a  change,'  I  made  reply ;  '  it  is  only 
occasionally  that  he  indulges  now,  where  it  used 
to  occur  every  night.' 

"'Thank  God  for  that!'  she  said  unsteadily. 
'  And  you  say  the  child  is  very  lovely  ?  How 
old  ? ' 

"  I  told  her. 

" '  Poor  little  soul  !  if  he  should  inherit  his 
father's  failing,'  she  half  sobbed ;  and  I  pitied  her 
the  more. 

"  '  Can't  you  save  him  ? '  she  asked,  making  a 
movement  as  if  to  rise. 

"  '  Save  him  —  I  ! '  was  my  astonished  exclama- 
tion. 

"  'I  mean,  of  course,  the  Army.  I  have  done  all 
I  could,  God  knows  !  His  mother  has  given  him 
up  in  despair  —  and  he  promised  to  be  such  an 
honor  to  her.  If  you  could  have  seen  his  home ! 
his  happy,  beautiful  boyhood  !  the  genius  that 


l6o  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

even  then  made  him  a  wonder  and  delight  !  Can't 
the  Army  get  hold  of  him  ?  I  used  to  despise  the 
movement,  to  laugh  at  its  military  discipline ; 
but  now  I  can  only  hope  that  he  may  be  brought 
under  its  influence.  Is  there  any  hope  that  they 
may  help  poor  Sebastian  ? ' 

"  I  knew  she  was  crying  under  her  veil. 

"  '  His  mother  is  alive,  then? '  I  ventured  to  say. 

" '  Yes,  poor  lady ;  and  he  is  all  the  child  God 
ever  gave  her.  What  terrible  spirit  possesses  him  ? 
It  must  be  something  evil  —  it  must  be  that  he 
is  under  a  spell !  It  must  be  ;  it  must ! ' 

"  Poor  soul !  I  pitied  her ;  for  beneath  her  veil 
I  saw  her  wringing  her  delicately  gloved  hands. 

"'And  he  is  married,  married  ! ' 

"  It  sounded  like  a  wail. 

"  '  Is  his  father  alive  ? '  I  asked. 

"  '  No,  thank  God  !  he  died  years  ago,  and  the 
fortune  he  left  his  son  has  all  been  spent  in  drink 
—  but  I  can  say  nothing  more  —  only  —  if  money 
is  needed  —  take  this;'  and  she  almost  forced  a 
purse  into  my  hand,  as  she  said,  '  For  many 
reasons  it  is  better  for  me  not  to  see  him.'  Of 
course  I  took  it ;  and  she  seemed  to  rely  on  my 
discretion,  so  I  have  it  by  me  now.  But,  do  you 
think,  papa  !  I  believe  she  was  a  lady  of  rank." 

"  And  this  Sebastian  ? "  said  the  banker,  quite 
interested  in  the  story. 

"  Is  the  father  of  that  beautiful  child  whose 
picture  I  sent  you.  But  it  is  ten  o'clock.  In  five 


THE   FACE   ON   CANVAS  l6l 

minutes  the  cab  I  engaged  to  take  me  back  will 
come.  Dear  father,  when  shall  I  see  you  again  ? " 

"Come — when  you  will,"  was  the  response; 
and  this  time  he  folded  her  again  in  his  arms  and 
kissed  her. 

Was  it  a  tear  she  felt  on  her  cheek  ? 


l62  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER    XXII 

JOHN    HARDY,    PRINTER 

He  who  wants  little 
Always  has  enough. 

WHEN  John  Hardy,  alias  Stacey,  first  saw  his 
living-room,  a  feeling  of  dismay  crept  over  him. 

There  were  three  windows.  The  floor  was 
black  and  uneven.  Dust  was  everywhere,  but 
water  was  plenty.  The  paint  was  in  an  undesi- 
rable state,  and  gave  evidence  that  small  and  dirty 
fingers  had  come  into  close  contact  with  the  wood- 
work. There  was  no  stove.  An  ill-smelling  fire- 
place gave  show  of  ashes  and  charred  wood,  as  if 
a  fire  had  recently  been  made  therein. 

The  man  took  the  dimensions  of  the  room.  That 
same  day  furniture  came  ;  not  much,  —  two  easy- 
chairs,  a  table,  a  small  bookcase,  an  art-square  of 
carpet,  and  window  shades.  The  windows  were 
cleaned,  and  a  student's  lamp  placed  on  a  bracket. 

The  man  himself  worked  diligently.  He  was, 
above  all  things  else,  methodical.  A  book  out  of 
place  was  torture.  His  hands  did  not  look  like 
those  of  a  workingman,  though  he  had  stained  and 
roughened  them.  They  were  delicately  shaped 


JOHN    HARDY,    PRINTER  163 

and  carefully  kept ;  except  for  their  darker  color, 
there  was  no  disguising  the  fact  that  they  were 
the  hands  of  a  gentleman.  But  there  are  work- 
ingmen  who  are  gentlemen  through  and  through, 
as  well  as  gentlemen,  so-called,  who  are  ruffians 
at  heart.  When  the  room  was  in  shape,  —  a  few 
good  books  in  the  bookcase,  a  guitar,  violin,  and 
one  or  two  other  instruments  placed  round,  —  the 
man  surveyed  his  work  with  satisfaction. 

"  Rather   a    contrast    to    the   rooms   in    B 

Hotel,"  he  said  musingly,  "but  all  the  more  en- 
joyable. Well,  I  have  made  the  plunge  ;  we  will 
see  what  comes  of  it.  It  is  a  thorough  change. 
I  shall  miss  Jacko.  He  wouldn't  live  here  —  too 
high-toned.  I  rather  like  it,  on  the  whole.  Now 
I  must  buy  a  few  nice  engravings  —  not  too 
many  —  for  the  wall." 

He  went  into  a  smaller  room  leading  from  that, 
and  surveyed  it  with  a  smile  that  curved  the  cor- 
ners of  his  lips  dubiously.  It  contained  a  bed- 
stead, two  chairs,  a  bath-tub  shaped  like  an 
immense  basin,  a  large  stand  for  pitcher  and 
water,  and  a  rack  well  stocked  with  towels. 

"  A  poor  man,  self-made,  pursuing  his  studies 
in  the  intervals  of  labor,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  It's  a  fine  idea.  I  really  need  to  brush  up  my 
knowledge  of  surgery.  Who  knows  how  many 
broken  heads  I  may  have  to  bandage,  or  broken 
bones  to  set  ?  Here  is  the  chance  for  work  in 
good  earnest.  No  idling  now,  young  man  ! 


164  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"I  fancy  I  did  the  atheistical  role  pretty  well. 
Now  they  must  do  the  rest.  There's  no  doubt 
in  my  own  mind,"  he  went  on,  taking  out  some 
medical  works  to  the  bookcase  mentioned  before, 
"that  I  am  a  graceless  dog  in  matters  of  theology. 
A  doubter  by  nature,  the  parsons  have  helped  to 
make  me  a  doubter  by  training.  But  already  I 
have  enlisted  the  sympathy  of  those  sweet  femi- 
nine souls  who  flutter  about  the  unregenerate 
like  birds  around  the  dove-cote.  A  half-way  sin- 
ner seldom  inspires  the  interest  given  to  one  who 
advances  thoughts  and  theories  entirely  beyond 
the  pale  of  their  experience.  However,  I'm  will- 
ing to  let  them  try  all  their  little  arts  upon  me.  It 
may  be  I  shall  be  convinced  in  the  end. 

"  I  liked  that  lieutenant  who  spoke.  He  hit 
right  from  the  shoulder.  And  there  was  some- 
thing angelically  real  in  his  religious  ardor.  I  re- 
spect him  more  than  I  do  that  effigy  of  the  church 
who  was  present.  He  wasn't  a  true  clergyman, 
by  Jove  !  or  he  would  never  have  sat  there  like  a 
statue,  after  what  I  said. 

"There  is  something  in  the  almost  fanatic  ear- 
nestness of  these  Salvationists  that  carries  one 
away,  absorbs  and  holds  the  imagination,  makes 
one  wish,  in  the  first  place,  for  truth,  and  then  to 
be  true. 

"  Their  women  are  not  bad-looking,  either,  if  it 
wasn't  for  that  hideous  uniform. 

"  I  wonder  who  the  little  lady  was  I  met  com- 


JOHN    HARDY,    PRINTER  1 65 

ing  up-stairs  ?  She  really  talked  to  me  as  ^  I  were 
one  of  them  —  said  I  must  attend  their  sociables, 
receptions,  musicales  !  Good  Lord  !  musicales  ! 
Well,  they  may  command  me ;  but  won't  it  be 
fun!  I  declare,  I  never  was  so  interested  in  my 
life  !  She  spoke  of  Molly  too,  —  Molly,  with  her 
dainty  ways  and  exquisite  abilities,  here  !  " 

He  looked  out  of  the  window  on  to  a  great  well 
of  a  yard,  so  gloomy,  so  forbidding,  that  his  man's 
heart  sank  within  him.  Half  a  dozen  rough  little 
gamins  were  playing  toss-penny,  and  swearing 
round-robins  out  of  sight.  Two  of  them  had 
stacks  of  newspapers  under  their  arms.  Three 
or  four  small  scraps  of  humanity  in  rags  cuddled 
in  their  arms  babies  as  big  as  themselves.  Three 
women  bent  over  three  tubs,  rinsing  and  rubbing ; 
and  at  that  moment  the  shrill  tones  at  his  left 
gave  evidence  of  childish  quarrels. 

"  Lucky  I  am  absolutely  cosmopolitan  in  spite 
of  all ;  that  will  carry  me  through. 

"  There  !  "  he  looked  around  with  a  sigh  of 
satisfaction. 

"  I'll  be  porter  for  a  great  commercial  house,  or 
a  joiner,  or  a  painter  —  I  don't  know  as  it's  any- 
body's business  what  I  am,  though  ;  only  for 
form's  sake  I  suppose  I  must  now  and  then  allude 
to  my  business.  Ah,  I  have  it !  I'm  a  printer!  A 
'jour  ' !  Benjamin  Franklin  was  a  printer;  print- 
ers have  chances  for  greatness  that  other  callings 
do  not  foster.  By  the  way,  haven't  I  a  printing- 


166  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

press  somewhere  ?  I  might  turn  it  to  good  ac- 
count, getting  up  bills  and  placards  and  posters, 
and  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  earning  money.  Good  ! 
I  had  one,  but,  egad!  I  think  I  gave  it  away. 
Well,  I'll  buy  me  another." 

He  placed  abundance  of  paper  on  his  desk,  on 
one  side  envelopes,  on  the  other  pens  and  pencils, 
three  volumes  of  Charles  Lamb's  Essays,  which 
were  very  household  gods  to  him.  He  was  a  man 
who  studied,  classified,  and  registered  all  he  read. 

Intellectually  he  was  rich,  physically  of  the  no- 
blest type  of  manhood,  morally  pure,  but  without 
aim  in  life  in  spite  of  his  profession.  This  new 
move  stimulated  him  in  all  directions,  and  the 
concealment  of  his  identity  added  zest  to  the  op- 
portunities now  placed  before  him. 

His  chief  motive  was  the  desire,  the  over- 
whelming desire,  to  win  the  heart  of  the  only 
woman  he  had  ever  loved  —  to  win  it  honestly, 
thoroughly,  and  entirely. 

And  now,  having  arranged  matters  somewhat  to 
his  satisfaction,  neither  slouchingly  as  if  he  had 
little  interest  in  them,  nor  too  carefully,  betoken- 
ing primness  and  over-nicety,  he  went  through 
the  instruments,  —  banjo,  violin,  and  guitar,  —  saw 
that  the  strings  were  perfect,  and  put  them  aside, 
trimmed  his  lamp,  and  sat  down  in  his  second- 
hand leather-covered  easy-chair,  monarch  of  all  he 
surveyed. 

"  It  is  a  satisfaction  only  to  be  near  her,"  he 


JOHN    HARDY,    PRINTER  l6/ 

muttered,  lighting  a  costly  cigar  ;  fortunately  the 
Paradise  people  had  not  been  educated  to  know 
the  difference  between  good  and  bad  in  that 
staple. 

He  sat  and  thought  and  smoked,  occasionally 
uttering  his  thoughts  aloud,  as  had  always  been 
his  custom.  In  the  next  room  Crump  the  tailor 
was  lecturing  his  pale-haired  lass,  while  she  basted 
and  handed  him  flaps,  linings,  and  pocket-pieces, 
and  his  wife  put  heavy  irons  on  the  stove. 

A  curious  looking  man  was  Crump.  His  face 
was  pale,  his  forehead  running  up  like  a  funnel 
point,  with  three  tufts  of  straw-colored  hair  adorn- 
ing top  and  sides.  His  eyes  were  blue,  eyebrows 
he  had  none,  his  features  were  broad  rather  than 
long.  Somehow  his  name  and  appearance  suited 
each  other.  An  industrious  man,  terribly  self- 
willed,  never  quiet,  the  wife  and  child  had  learned 
to  obey  his  slightest  wish,  and  listen  reverently  to 
all  he  had  to  say. 

"  'N'  I  tell  you,  whichever  way  you  turns,  you 
goes  wrong  gi'nly,  you  women-folks,"  he  was 
saying.  "  Fambly,"  he  called  his  wife  "  Family," 
"  you  ain't  put  them  irons  on  the  right  heater ; 
this  is  for  that,  'n'  that  is  for  this.  Here,  Mandy, 
you  line  this  pocket  welt,  'n'  hand  me  that  there 
cord.  These  pants  are  for  a  very  pertickler  gent 
—  an'  so,"  returning  to  the  beginning  of  his  sen- 
tence, "  you  ain't  a-goin'  to  git  my  consent  to  go 
to  any  of  them  Damnation  Army  goin's  on." 


1 68  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Malvy  Britton  goes ;  an'  they  don't  say  nothin* 
'bout  Salvation  doin's,  on'y  sing  an'  recite  'n'  have 
cakes  and  lemonade  'n'  chocolate,"  sniffed  the  girl. 

"  I  tell  you,  you  ain't  goin'  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  them  Damnation  Army  doin's,"  shouted 
the  irate  Crump  ;  "so  you  shet  up,  'n'  hand  me 
that  band  linin'  over  there  ;  'n'  Fambly,  git  my 
press-board,  'n'  git  it  quick." 

Poor  little  Mandy  had  received  an  invitation  to 
the  next  sociable  from  the  hands  of  Nan,  as  the 
girl  passed  Crump's  door,  violin-bag  in  hand,  hav- 
ing just  returned  from  taking  her  lesson. 

"  I  do  hope  you'll  go,  Mandy,"  said  the  child, 
her  great  glowing  eyes  scintillating  in  the  dark 
passage-way;  "for  I'm  to  play  to-night,  and  there's 
goin'  to  be  singin',  and  lots  of  recitations,  and 
Miss  Cap'n  Molly  —  oh,  she's  so  sweet!  You'll 
love  her  jest  to  look  at  her  !  " 

Mandy  hoped  so  too,  and  tremblingly  asked 
her  father  ;  she  never  thought  of  speaking  to  her 
mother  about  such  matters  —  the  result  we  know. 

Then  Nan  went  on  round  the  passage-way,  and 
timidly  knocked  at  the  stranger's  door. 

At  his  "  Come  in,"  she  entered,  gave  a  swift, 
surprised  glance  at  the  room,  "  so  neat  for  a 
man,"  she  afterwards  said,  and  delivered  her  mes- 
sage. 

"  Miss  Molly  Stanley's  compliments  to  Mr. 
Hardy,  and  wouldn't  he  come  to  the  musicale  to 
be  held  at  her  rooms  to-night  ? " 


JOHN    HARDY,    PRINTER  169 

John  Hardy  took  his  cigar  from  between  his 
lips,  and  sat  upright  looking  at  the  child,  saying 
to  himself,  "  They  lose  no  time." 

"  Why,  I've  seen  you  before  !  "  he  unthinkingly 
exclaimed. 

"  Maybe  you  have  ;  for  I  played  a  long  time  on 
the  street  to  earn  money  for  my  sick  father,"  she 
said,  shifting  her  light  burden  to  the  other  hand. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  remember,"  he  made  answer,  catch- 
ing himself  up.  "  You  have  a  very  nice  violin  — 
left  you  by  your  father." 

Her  face  lighted. 

"  Did  you  know  him  ?  "  she  asked.  "  He  called 
it  King  Solomon." 

"  Oh,  no !  but  I  have  a  faint  recollection  that 
you  told  me  about  it  somewhere  —  sometime,"  he 
said  guardedly.  "  I  have  rather  a  nice  old  fiddle 
myself,"  he  went  on,  stretching  out  his  hand  to 
where  the  instrument  hung,  "but  not  half  as 
good  as  yours." 

He  drew  his  bow  across  the  strings  with  the 
swiftness  and  precision  of  a  first-class  amateur. 

"  Ah  !  you  play  also,"  the  girl  said,  laughing 
out  joyously. 

"  Why,  some  little.  I  have  studied  a  bit  with 
Andromo  here,  and  one  or  two  professors  abroad." 

"  Professor  Andromo  !  oh,  he  is  teaching  me  !  " 
said  the  waif,  and  her  dark  eyes  glowed  again. 

At  which  information  the  blue  spectacles  stared 
in  undisguised  astonishment. 


I/O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Andromo  !  your  teacher  !  "  he  said,  taken  by 
surprise.  "  Andromo  and  Paradise  Flats !  By 
Jove  !  " 

The  sarcasm  was  unmistakable. 

"  Paradise  Flats  seems  good  enough  for  you  to 
live  in  !  "  Nan  retorted,  her  quick  Italian  temper 
flashing  out  of  the  glorious  eyes.  She  had  to 
learn  day  by  day  that  there  were  two  worlds 
grinding  against  each  other,  and  that  she  in- 
habited the  under  one. 

"  I  sincerely  beg  your  pardon."  he  said  in  his 
softest  tones.  "  Yes,  I  live  in  Paradise  Flats  my- 
self ;  being  only  a  poor  printer,  it's  the  best  I  can 
do  at  present,"  he  said.  "  But  knowing  the  pro- 
fessor pretty  well,  and  that  he  is  very  eminent  as 
a  musician,  and  knowing  by  experience  the  prices 
he  asks  —  great  Heaven  !  his  charges  are  enor- 
mous !  whew  ! " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Nanny,  readily  pacified ; 
"  but  Miss  Molly  attended  to  all  that  —  of  course 
I  couldn't  pay.  But  I  will  !  You  better  believe 
I  will  when  I  get  famous  !  Oh,  yes  !  I'm  goin'  to 
be.  The  professor  says  so.  But  Miss  Molly, 
she's  an  angel,  she  is.  All  the  tenement  folks 
say  so !  She  gives  bea-u-ti-ful  receptions,  and 
finds  out  what  everybody  can  do  best.  She's  an 
angel  !  " 

The  man's  face,  as  the  child,  with  all  the  elo- 
quence of  deep  feeling,  sounded  the  praises  of  the 
woman  he  loved,  was  a  study.  He  watched  the 


JOHN    HARDY,    PRINTER  I /I 

glowing  face,  the  shining  eyes,  the  trembling  lips, 
with  a  kind  of  ecstasy. 

All  regrets  over  lost  opportunities,  all  desires 
of  appreciation,  were  merged  in  one  delightful, 
overwhelming  sensation,  —  that  even  if  he  loved 
in  vain,  it  was  more  than  any  mortal  honor,  more 
and  greater,  to  love  such  a  woman. 

So  simple,  so  gracious,  so  beautiful  a  life  — 
could  he  question  her  choice,  or  seek  to  lead  her 
away  from  the  work  of  her  life  ? 

"  No,  by  Heaven  !  I'll  work  with  her  to  the 
death,  nor  think  of  marriage,  if  she  only  will  love 
me,"  he  said  to  himself ;  then  aloud,  — 

"  I  will  come  to  the  reception  to-night.  If  you 
see  Miss  Stanley,  tell  her  I  shall  be  very  happy  to 
come." 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

MOLLY   AND    MANDY 
And  light  and  /lowers  and  beauty  all  assist. 

"THERE,  Miss  Stanley,  I  think  we  are  ready 
now,"  said  Ensign  Harry. 

"  How  sweet  the  room  looks  !  Who  would  ever 
have  thought  of  flowers  —  indeed,  who  could  get 
such  expensive  things  but  you?" 

Feathery  lengths  of  wistaria,  lush  red  roses, 
clusters  of  violets,  great  bunches  of  pink  and 
scarlet  and  white  geraniums,  rare  hothouse  flow- 
ers placed  here  and  there  on  brackets,  in  vases, 
sent  their  subtle  perfume  in  all  directions,  and 
added  to  the  simple  accessories  of  the  room  a 
radiance,  a  delicacy  of  color  and  arrangement, 
that  seemed  to  emanate  from  gracious  occupants 
of  Fairyland.  Everything  that  Molly's  fingers 
touched  turned  to  beauty. 

It  was  true  that  she  was  the  moving  spirit  and 
good  genius  of  the  house.  The  soul-beauty  of  her 
face,  her  graceful  carriage,  her  quickness  of  per- 
ception, were  beyond  words  to  praise ;  and  since 
her  life  had  been  devoted  to  duty  and  filled  with 
work,  and  her  spirits  wakened  to  the  needs  of  the 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY  1/3 

perishing,  all  those  charms  had  increased  tenfold. 
There  was  nothing  quixotic  about  her.  She  never 
talked  of  reforming  the  world,  only  of  her  own 
way  of  lifting  humanity  higher,  —  of  making  here 
and  there  a  struggling  soul  happier ;  of  teaching 
the  unthinking  to  think ;  of  bringing  to  the  day- 
light now  and  then  some  talent  hidden  under  a 
bushel.  She  did  not  expect,  neither  did  she  un- 
dertake, great  things,  —  a  sewing-school  for  poor 
children,  books  to  lend,  simple  amusements ;  she 
taught  that  work  was  ennobling,  that  vanity  brought 
ruin,  that  in  the  humblest  heart  there  was  room 
for  noble  deeds. 

"  I  think  I'll  put  this  one  long  spray  of  wistaria 
around  the  sea-picture,"  said  Ensign  Harry.  "  It 
needs  nothing  to  make  it  more  beautiful ;  but,  as 
the  most  beautiful  picture  in  the  room,  I'll  crown 
it,"  and  she  placed  the  flowers  there. 

Ensign  Harry  looked  very  dainty  in  her  blue 
print  dress,  —  blue  of  so  delicate  a  tint  that  the 
little  white  collar  about  the  throat  only  seemed  a 
shading  off  to  the  softer  tints  of  the  round  throat. 
It  was  plainly  made,  and  fitted  her  to  perfection. 
This  little  English  woman  was  an  adept  in  col- 
ors, shapes,  and  styles,  could  make  dresses,  bon- 
nets, even  gloves.  Molly  also  appeared  in  a  print 
dress ;  but  it  was  the  softest,  sweetest  shade  of 
salmon  pink  that  could  be  found  in  the  market. 
She  also  wore  white  in  neck  and  sleeves  as  a  re- 
lief ;  but  it  was  rare  old  lace,  —  the  only  luxury  she 


1/4  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

allowed  herself  on  these  gala  evenings.  The  lace 
was  so  fine  and  white  that  its  proximity  to  the 
print  was  in  no  wise  inharmonious.  It  only  en- 
hanced its  wearer's  beauty,  —  beauty  like  that  of 
the  wild-rose,  ethereal,  but  manifest. 

"  The  rooms  do  look  well,  for  Paradise  Flats," 
said  Molly ;  "  but  when  I  reflect  with  what  scanty 
graces  Reine  makes  her  cellar-room  habitable,  I 
am  almost  ashamed  of  these." 

"  Her  husband  earns  money  enough  to  live  up- 
stairs," said  Ensign  Harry,  "  or  ought  to." 

"He  could  earn  money  enough  to  live  in  a  good 
house  of  his  own,"  was  Molly's  response,  "but 
he  has  lost  his  manhood." 

"  Have  you  given  him  up  ? "  was  the  ensign's 
anxious  question. 

"  Yes,"  Molly  answered  with  reluctance ;  "  un- 
less something  unforeseen  should  happen  —  some 
terrible  accident  or  death.  Pray  God  he  may  die 
sober  at  least !  " 

"  Poor  little  Mandy  Crump  !  "  Ensign  Harry 
said  after  a  brief  silence.  "  I  met  her  in  the  hall. 
She  said  her  father  wouldn't  let  her  come,  then 
burst  out  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break." 

"  I'm  going  to  order  a  suit  of  clothes,"  said 
Molly,  going  to  her  writing-desk. 

"  A  suit  —  of  clothes  !  —  you  !  for  yourself  ?  " 
and  Ensign  Harry  looked  bewildered. 

"  No  ;  but  I  am  determined  to  soften  that  heart 
of  adamant.  I  am  determined  that  Mandy  shall 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY  1/5 

come  to-night.     Poor  child,  she  has  so  little  pleas- 
ure !  "  and  she  wrote  :  — 

DEAR  MR.  CRUMP,  —  I  have  a  friend  who  needs  a  new 
suit  of  clothes.  He  is  ill  and  poor,  and  I  shall  have  the 
pleasure  of  paying  for  it.  If  I  give  you  his  measure,  will  you 
undertake  to  make  it?  As  soon  as  it  is  done,  you  shall  be 
liberally  paid. 

Please  let  Mandy  come  to-night.  M.  STANLEY. 

Molly  read  the  missive  aloud.  Her  cheeks  were 
as  red  as  La  France  roses,  and  the  battle-light  of 
determination  brightened  her  eyes. 

"  It's  for  Jennings,  the  carpenter,"  she  said. 

Ensign  Harry  looked  preternaturally  demure, 
then  smiled,  then  laughed.  Then,  at  Molly's  look 
of  surprise,  she  laughed  louder.  Finally  she  sank, 
shaking,  into  a  chair. 

"  What  in  the  world  "  —  ejaculated  Molly. 

•'  The  —  whole  thing  is  —  so  ridiculous  !  so  ex- 
quisitely funny !  "  was  the  half-smothered  answer. 
"  The  poor  carpenter  is  sick  —  typhoid  fever  — 
may  not  live  to  wear  a  suit  of  clothes  —  and  you 
ordering  them  —  and  of  Crump  !  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  " 

"  If  he  don't  live  to  wear  them,  somebody  will," 
said  Molly,  quite  alive  to  the  absurdity  of  the  sit- 
uation, but  more  alive  to  her  generous  impulses. 

"  And  he'll  charge  you  a  monstrous  price,  if  you 
don't  limit  him." 

"  Why,  I  shall  limit  him,  of  course.  Besides, 
I'm  bound  to  emancipate  Mandy." 


176  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"Molly,  you  are  a  saint.  If  I  were  a  man, 
I  should  simply  adore  you,"  exclaimed  Ensign 
Harry.  "  Where  are  your  lovers  ?  You  should 
have  had  them  by  the  score.  I'm  glad  I  ever 
knew  you  !  "  and  she  wiped  the  impulsive  tears, 
born  of  her  mirth,  from  her  eyes.  "  You  stoop  to 
us,  you  love  us,  you  master  us  !  I  write  home 
about  you  in  all  my  letters.  I  only  wish  you  were 
at  the  head  of  the  Army.  I  am  not  always  sure 
when  I  am  obeying  orders  without  asking  ques- 
tions, whether  I  ought  or  not,  though  I  must ; 
but  in  you  I  have  such  perfect  faith  that  I  should 
never  question.  How  shall  we  get  the  note  up- 
stairs ?  I'll  carry  it."  And  she  did. 

Crump  read  the  letter.  First  he  smiled,  and 
then  he  frowned.  Then  he  fidgeted,  and  told 
Family. 

She,  fearing  she  should  betray  too  much  joy, 
pulled  her  face  to  its  usual  sanctimonious  length. 
A  red  dress,  a  green  sash,  and  her  own  old  white 
slippers  were  all  dancing  a  jig  in  her  bewildered 
brain.  That  was  all  the  finery  poor  Mandy  pos- 
sessed. 

Family  held  the  candle  over  her  lord's  head  in 
frightful  proximity  to  the  bunch  of  yellow  furze 
that  served  as  a  topknot,  and  read  the  note ;  then 
she  smiled  as  he  cogitated  over  the  pros  and  cons. 

"  You're  a-goin*  to  let  'er  go,  ain't  ye,  Crump  ? " 
she  asked,  sidling  away  with  the  candle. 

"  No,  I  ain't,"  Crump  said  shortly. 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY 


The  woman  set  the  candle  down  with  a  faint  cry. 

"  Lord  o'  mercy,  Crump,  you're  a-treading  on 
your  own  toes." 

"  Call  Mandy  here,"  growled  Crump,  on  second 
thoughts.  "They  sha'n't  drag  me  into  their  net." 

The  girl  made  her  appearance  from  the  closet 
beyond,  where  she  had  heard  every  word.  She 
came  forward  trembling  with  fear,  yet  inwardly 
hoping.  To  her  the  promised  entertainment  was 
like  a  glimpse  of  heaven  to  the  world-weary  pil- 
grim. She  seldom  went  beyond  the  snarl  in 
Crump's  voice. 

"  Mandy,  there's  seven  flaps  to  make,  stitching 
back-handed." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mandy  meekly. 

"  Five  pockets  to  set  in,  and  four  breasts  to 
line." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  subdued  and  stereotyped 
answer. 

"Ten  buttonholes  to  make." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  all  to  be  done  to-morrow.  If  I  let  you 
go  to  this  Damnation  party  "  —  with  tremendous 
emphasis. 

"  I'll  do  it  if  I  die,"  said  Mandy,  trembling;  "I'll 
git  up  at  half-past  four." 

"  Well,  I  dunno  as  I've  got  any  say  about  it," 
he  muttered  ferociously  ;  "  ask  Fambly." 

Family  said,  "  Lor',  yes  ;  what's  to  hinder  ? 
There's  my  white  shoes  !  " 


1/8  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

And  so  Mancly  presented  herself  to  Molly  in  a 
white  frock,  clean  and  neat,  the  red  one  with  the 
green  sash  having  been  dispensed  with  after  due 
consideration.  "  And  really,"  Molly  thought,  as 
she  welcomed  the  hopeful,  happy  face,  "  she's  not 
so  very  bad-looking." 

One  after  another  the  knocks  at  the  door  were 
answered,  and  the  rooms  slowly  filled.  There  were 
coarse  people,  homely  people,  nervous  people,  all 
dressed  in  their  best.  There  was  a  sprinkling  of 
young  girls,  a  few  members  of  the  Army  with 
their  instruments ;  but  among  them  all  no  sweeter 
face  met  the  eye  than  that  of  little  old  Mrs. 
McKisseth,  who  came  down  to  "  hear  her  darlin' 
play,"  and  brightened  the  little  circle  by  her 
shrewdness  and  native  Irish  wit. 

Last  of  all  came  Stacey,  introduced  as  John 
Hardy.  Ensign  Harry  made  a  mute  sign  to  Molly 
that  here  was  the  man  !  The  man  moved  quietly 
and  meekly  forward,  knowing  no  one,  and  mak- 
ing for  the  ensign,  who  introduced  him  to  Miss 
Stanley,  whose  quick  eye  almost  noted  his  effort 
not  to  be  graceful. 

"  A  handsome  man,"  she  said  at  the  first  glance. 
"  A  very  handsome  man,"  at  the  second  —  "  not 
exactly  a  laborer." 

"  Oh  !  you  are  a  printer,"  she  said  some  little 
time  afterward,  as  he  informed  her  of  the  fact ; 
"  that  settles  it,"  she  added  naTvely. 

"  May  I  ask  what  is  settled  ?  "  he  questioned. 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY  1/9 

"  Excuse  me,  I  have  been  trying  to  think 
whether  I  have  seen  you  before,"  she  made  frank 
reply  ;  "  but  among  all  the  new  friends  I  have 
made  the  last  year,  I  do  not  know  of  one  who 
follows  the  craft  you  mention.  I  have  always 
thought  that  printing  was  one  of  the  noblest  of 
callings.  It  must  tend  to  keep  the  finer  faculties 
of  the  mind  wide  awake,  to  nourish  the  root  of 
knowledge.  On  what  paper  are  you  specially  en- 
gaged ? " 

He  blushed  like  a  boy. 

"  On  no  particular  paper,  Miss  —  Miss  "  — 

"  Stanley,"  put  in  Molly  promptly. 

"Yes,  thank  you.  My  work  is  desultory  —  by 
the  job  —  books,  bills,  cards  —  for  samples  see 
catalogue,"  and  he  laughed.  Under  the  dark-blue 
glasses  there  was  a  queer  little  twinkle  ;  but,  faith- 
ful to  their  trust,  the  spectacles  hid  it. 

"Strange  how  he  interests  me,"  thought  Molly; 
"and  yet  the  man  is  an  atheist,  a  confessed  un- 
believer. A  godless  man,  who  stands  alone,  able, 
professionally,  to  live  in  himself,  by  himself,  for 
himself  only.  I  ought  to  shudder  to  be  talking 
with  him,  and  still  he  fascinates  me  with  that 
bold  self-assertion.  He  holds  my  glance.  What 
beautiful  eyes  he  has  under  those  horrid  glasses  ! 
I  suppose  he  has  to  wear  them.  No  doubt  he  is  a 
man  who  reads  and  thinks  much,  a  self-made  man. 
His"  hands  are  nice  too.  A  printer  ought  to  have 
nice  hands." 


ISO  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

At  that  moment  little  Mrs.  McKisseth  came  in, 
followed  by  her  pet  cat. 

Stacey  started. 

"  What  a  beautiful  creature  !  "  Stacey  exclaimed, 
as  the  cat  brushed  by  him.  "  She  reminds  me  of 
my  J  — ,  of  a  cat,"  he  added  tamely,  his  face  aflame. 

"Then,  you  like  cats,"  Molly  said. 

"  Oh,  immensely  !  "  was  his  answer;  and  he  bit 
his  lip  viciously,  "  —  er  —  particularly  when  they 
talk,"  he  added. 

"When  they  talk!" 

"  Well  —  er  —  seem  to,  you  know  —  with  such 
an  expressive  purr.  I  assure  you,  I  can  interpret 
mine  —  I  mean  cats  generally.  Of  course  you  like 
them,"  he  blundered  on. 

"  Yes,"  she  laughed.  "  You  remind  me  of  a  — 
friend  I  once  had.  He  owned  a  cat  he  called 
Jacko,  and  upon  my  word  the  wonderful  stories 
he  told  of  that  cat  were  quite  beyond  belief.  But 
he  believed  them,  or  rather  he  believed  in  the  cat. 
I  have  always  wanted  to  see  that  cat,"  she  went 
on,  sotto  voce.  "  If  not  a  wonder,  it  must  have  been 
a  beauty." 

"  Yes,  it  —  it  must  have  been,"  faltered  Stacey, 
feeling  unsafe  even  under  his  disguise  if  she 
talked  much  longer. 

Fortunately  some  one  called  for  music. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Molly,  with  a  vivacious  little 
nod,  "we  devote  some  time  to  singing  and  play- 
ing. Do  you  sing  ?  " 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY  l8l 

"  Not  guilty,"  he  replied  with  a  shrug.  "  I  play 
the  fiddle  sometimes." 

"We  are  just  going  to  give  a  little  concerto 
movement  for  violin  and  piano,  and  you  must  tell 
me  your  opinion  of  our  young  violinist.  Professor 
Andromo  is  going  to  be  very  proud  of  her  ;  "  and 
Molly  went  toward  the  piano,  secure  in  the  con- 
viction that  she  had  stunned  him  by  the  assertion 
that  an  inmate  of  Paradise  Flats  commanded  the 
services  of  so  great  a  musician  as  the  professor. 

Everybody  listened.  That  was  one  of  the  rules  ; 
and  the  playing  was  effective,  —  so  much  so  that 
a  prolonged  applause  brought  the  two  out  again. 

Then  some  one,  a  stout  young  fellow,  an  officer 
in  the  Army  by  his  uniform,  played  a  cornet  solo 
in  creditable  style.  This  was  followed  by  two  or 
three  clever  recitations ;  and  then  Mandy,  who 
was  in  the  seventh  heaven  of  ecstasy,  wondered 
whether  ten  o'clock  would  come  before  she  could 
taste  of  the  refreshments  laid  out  on  a  corner  table. 

There  were  sandwiches  and  pretty  little  sugar 
cakes,  cheese  and  crackers,  and  tea  and  chocolate. 
Somebody  said  "  lemonade,"  near  her  ;  and  sure 
enough,  there  stood  a  pitcher  —  it  must  have  held 
a  gallon  —  full  to  the  brim  !  Everything  she  had 
seen  and  heard  had  filled  her  with  supreme  con- 
tent. She  had  never  been  to  a  theatre  or  concert 
in  her  life  —  a  children's  party,  perhaps,  once  a 
year,  but  that  was  the  extent  of  her  social  merry- 
making ;  and  the  child  had  a  soul  that  could  feel 


I 82  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

and  appreciate  such  gatherings  to  a  certain  extent. 
Her  eyes  followed  Molly ;  and  presently  she  heard 
a  voice  near  her  say,  — 

"  What  two  handsome  ones  them  two  are  !  " 

Molly  and  John  Hardy  had  gravitated  together 
again. 

She  had  asked  some  questions  which  he  had 
answered  or  parried,  and  he  was  telling  her  of  his 
wishes  and  expectations. 

"  At  present,"  he  said,  and  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  spectacles  Molly  might  well  have  ques- 
tioned the  expression  of  his  eyes,  "  I  am  at  work 
all  my  spare  time  studying  medicine.  My  ambi- 
tion is  to  become  a  surgeon." 

"  The  noblest  profession  a  man  could  choose," 
she  said,  her  eyes  sparkling.  "  I  had  a  friend  — 
nay,  I  have  a  friend,"  and  the  words  sent  a  thrill  to 
his  heart,  —  "  Why  in  the  deuce,"  he  said  to  him- 
self, "  if  she  doesn't  care  for  Stacey  that  way,  does 
she  mention  him  so  often  ?  "  -  "  who,"  continued 
Molly,  "  with  the  grandest  privileges  a  man  can 
possess,  a  good  knowledge  of  surgery,  rich,  young, 
yet  lives  the  life  of  a  sybarite,  caring  for  noth- 
ing, for  no  one,  but  himself.  Oh,  I  despise  such 
living,  such  a  character  !  But  then,  how  can  you 
be  a  surgeon,  and  absolutely  certain  that  there  is 
no  God  ? " 

He  was  taken  all  aback.  The  sad,  sweet  pathos 
of  her  voice  nearly  unmanned  him.  He  stood 
before  her  self-convicted  and  despising  himself, 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY  1 83 

"  I  did  say  that  rash  thing  —  and  you  heard  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  didn't  go  out  that  day,  but  Ensign 
Harry  brings  me  minutes  of  all  the  meetings. 
How  came  you  to  be  there  ?  "  she  asked  naively. 
"  Did  you  not  know  theology  is  never  discussed 
among  us  ?  We  work  and  we  talk  —  we  work  for 
bodies,  and  talk  for  souls." 

"  I  had  tried  everything  else,"  he  said.  "  My 
people  were  very  strict.  I  was  brought  up  to 
believe  in  many  things  that  I  could  not  help  ques- 
tioning. But  we  will  leave  that  for  future  argu- 
ment," he  added,  smiling. 

"And  you  —  will  you  not  contribute  something 
towards  the  entertainment  ?  "  she  asked,  instantly 
relapsing  into  her  accustomed  dignity. 

"  If  the  child  will  lend  me  that  violin,"  he  said. 
"  I  should  like  to  try  the  instrument.  'Tis  a  good 
one." 

Molly  sought  out  Nan,  who,  with  a  group  of 
girls  about  her,  was  propounding  conundrums. 
The  girl  rose  with  alacrity,  and  taking  King  Solo- 
mon out  of  its  case,  gave  it  to  the  stranger,  who 
looked  it  over  carefully,  caressingly,  then,  after  a 
little,  held  it  in  position.  He  asked  for  no  accom- 
paniment, but,  with  steady  movements  and  a  deli- 
cate grace,  played  an  old,  old  melody  that  brought 
Mrs.  McKisseth  forward,  the  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"Ay,  an'  that's  the  r'al  old  Irish  tune,"  she 
said,  "  that  draws  the  warmest  blood  from  the  far- 


184  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

derest  corner  of  the  heart.  You've  been  to  ould 
Ireland  maybe,  and  heard  the  lasses  crooning  it  to 
the  sick  childer.  It's  a  godsend  when  the  pulse 
is  failin'  an'  the  heart  is  sobbin'.  Sure,  the  Chiefs 
of  Carnegie  played  it  with  drums  and  the  ould  fife 
of  the  O'Maurice." 

He  had  heard  it  in  Ireland,  caught  it  from  a 
piper,  and  paid  him  to  play  it  again  and  again  ;  but 
he  did  not  say  so.  Everybody  was  listening  and 
wishing  for  more  ;  so,  signalling  for  his  hostess,  he 
played  a  more  ambitious  solo  to  her  accompani- 
ment, while  the  people  solaced  themselves  with 
refreshments.  Ensign  Harry  read  the  fear  in 
Mandy's  eyes  ;  and  soon  the  girl  was  bountifully 
supplied  with  sandwiches,  chocolate,  and  cakes. 

"  Oh,  it  was  a  beautiful,  beautiful  evening !  " 
everybody  declared,  as  the  party  broke  up.  Every 
face  was  lighted,  every  good-night  given  with 
thanks.  Molly  had  issued  the  laws  of  etiquette 
in  minor  matters  long  before,  and  they  were  scru- 
pulously observed. 

Then  the  two  women  sat  down  to  compare 
notes. 

"  The  Bassetts  were  not  here,"  said  Ensign 
Harry. 

"No;  Sebastian  is  off  again,"  Molly  answered 
with  a  little  sigh.  "  I  fear  there  is  no  hope  for 
him." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  happy  face  as  that  of 
poor  Mandy  Crump  ?  " 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY  185 

"I  watched  her  often;"  and  Molly  smiled. 
"  Poor  little  girl,  it  is  worth  all  the  cost  and  the 
trouble  to  see  such  a  face  now  and  then." 

"  And  the  new  man  ?  I  noticed  that  you  talked 
with  him,"  said  Ensign  Harry;  "did  you  like 
him  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  new  man  !  After  all,  he  is  not 
one  of  us.  His  nature  and  his  thoughts  are  ruled 
by  a  supreme  love  of  self.  I  am  sorry,  for  I  like 
him  very  much." 

"He  shall  be  one  of  us.  We  must  work  for 
him.  To-night  was  one  chance  for  baiting  our 
hook.  We  have  got  hold  of  him.  He  will  come 
again,  and  he  will  be  sure  to  go  to  the  meetings." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  asked  Molly. 

"  I  know  by  the  way  he  looked  at  you,"  was  on 
the  girl's  lips  to  say ;  but  she  refrained,  not  sure 
but  her  friend  would  resent  it  as  an  impertinence. 

"  I  think  he's  interested  —  in  the  Salvation 
Army,"  she  made  reply. 

"  Perhaps  —  I  hope  so.  He  certainly  is  a  man 
of  energy — a  printer.  Printers  are  not  always 
extraordinary  men,  but  this  is  an  extraordinary 
man.  I  could  hardly  believe  that  I  never  saw 
him  before.  It  was  like  the  shadow  of  a  famil- 
iar presence  haunting  me.  I  don't  like  to  feel 
that  way.  Do  you  know  he  is  studying  medi- 
cine?" ' 

"  I  thought  there  was  something  grand  about 
him  that  Sunday,"  said  Ensign  Harry.  "  If  we 


1 86  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

do  catch  him,  it  will  be  like  hooking  a  leviathan. 
He  will  be  hands  and  feet  and  head  to  our  cause. 
I  hope  you  made  him  understand  that  we  took 
no  stock  in  his  infidel  ideas." 

"Of  course  he  knows  that.  He  is  perhaps  a 
little  ashamed.  But  how  he  handled  that  violin  ! 
Did  you  ever  hear  pathos,  real,  unmixed  pathos, 
such  as  that  little  Irish  air,  before  ?  Curious  that 
he  should  come  to  Paradise  Flats." 

"  Not  at  all,"  Ensign  Harry  made  brisk  answer. 
"  Haven't  we  nearly  all  the  professions  here  ?  in 
a  state  of  decay  more  or  less  pronounced  to  be 
sure  —  but  still,  here  they  are.  I  presume  our 
gentleman-printer  is  poor,  or  he  wouldn't  come 
here.  I'm  sure  I  honor  him  for  having  the  cour- 
age of  his  convictions.  He  is  a  man  who  wants 
to  be  helped,  won't  get  in  debt,  has  fixed  his  eye 
on  fame  in  the  future,  and  he  will  have  it." 

"But  doing  it  all  in  his  own  strength,"  put  in 
Molly. 

"  Wait  and  see,"  said  Ensign  Harry  hopefully. 

"  Suppose  we  stop  talking  about  him,  and  look 
over  our  list  of  work  for  to-morrow,"  said  Molly. 

She  opened  her  tablets  and  read,  running  a  pen- 
cil between  the  lines. 

"On  the  march  by  ten — that's  to  go  down  to 
the  shipping,  and  hold  a  prayer-meeting.  Did  you 
ever  notice  what  thorough  gentlemen  most  sailors 
are  in  the  presence  of  ladies  ? 

"Through  D   Street  from  house  to  house.     I 


MOLLY    AND    MANDY  l8/ 

don't  incline  towards  that,  we  get  so  much  abuse ; 
but  it  pays  sometimes.  A  visit  to  the  almshouse 
to  talk  to  the  poor  old  people  —  there's  always 
something  interesting  about  that.  Then  march 
again  to  the  hall  for  a  meeting  of  praise.  Six 
visits  besides  to  six  very  bad  people  —  poor  things  ! 
to  try  and  teach  them  how  to  be  clean.  I  think 
we  ought  to  set  up  a  cooking-school.  But  then, 
what  time  have  we  for  that  ?  What  with  the  sew- 
ing-class, the  singing-class,  and  our  little  recep- 
tions, it  is  about  all  we  can  do  to  get  on." 

"  To  say  nothing  of  baiting  hooks  to  catch  levia- 
thans," laughed  Ensign  Harry  ;  and  then  looked 
troubled,  for  a  faint  flush  mounted  to  Molly's 
cheeks  as  she  rose  and  shut  the  piano,  put  the 
chairs  in  place,  gathered  the  flowers  together,  and 
laid  them  all  in  a  big  basin  of  water  to  keep  them 
fresh,  answering  not  a  word. 

"  And  oh,  mother !  I'd  be  willin'  to  work  my 
fingers  to  the  bone  just  to  go  sometimes.  And 
oh,  mother !  she's  the  sweetest,  the  most  beauti- 
fullest,  the  kindest  lady  I  ever  see !  It  was  just 
like  heaven  there  !  " 

That  was  Mandy's  verdict,  when  at  ten  o'clock 
her  father  went  after  his  pot  of  beer,  vowing  all 
manner  of  evil  things  if  them  Damnationists  didn't 
send  Mandy  home  to  her  wool-singed,  hot,  musty- 
smelling  rooms  by  the  time  he  returned. 


I 88  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

AN    INTERVIEW    WITH    THE    BANKER 

All 's  fair  in  love  and  war. 

JOHN  HARDY  sat  alone  in  his  new  quarters.  It 
was  very  cheerful  at  night.  The  student's  lamp 
was  alight,  and  the  big  armchair  drawn  close  up 
to  the  bookcase,  part  of  which  turned  down  for  a 
writing-desk. 

"  I  haven't  had  such  an  evening  for  —  well,  I 
never  had  such  an  evening  in  my  life ! "  he  solilo- 
quized. "  She  was  simply  angelical.  I  don't  won- 
der they  are  all  gone  on  her.  Now,  if  she  scores 
me  for  a  convert,  I  shall  have  that  hold  upon  her. 
In  her  thoughts,  in  her  very  soul,  I  shall  be  to  her 
unlike  other  men.  That  allusion  of  mine  to  sur- 
gery was  an  inspiration." 

He  sat  for  a  few  moments  lost  in  blissful  revery. 

What  visions  he  saw !  No  need  of  a  disguise 
now.  He  had  taken  off  his  spectacles ;  and  if  just 
then  Molly  could  have  seen  him  without  them,  de- 
spite the  whiskers  and  the  darker  hair,  she  would 
have  recognized  him.  Few  men  have  such  eyes, 
so  deeply  blue,  so  rich  in  depth,  so  magnificently 
shadowed  by  long,  dark  lashes. 


AN  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  BANKER     189 

No  need  to  say  he  was  already  thoroughly 
ashamed  of  his  assumption  of  atheistical  procliv- 
ities. 

Drunk  with  love's  red  wine,  he  would  have  given 
up  every  theory  he  had  ever  held,  every  one  of 
the  millions  that  made  him  the  envy  of  his  set. 
With  this  new  incentive,  he  would  have  had  more 
honor  in  her  eyes  as  a  man  willing  to  spend  his 
life  in  doing  good,  than  if  he  were  a  hundred 
times  a  millionaire  and  wanting  the  principles 
that  make  manhood  a  success.  Yes,  now  to  win 
her,  he  would  be  the  humblest  private  in  that  very 
Salvation  Army  he  had  so  often  ridiculed.  His 
love  was  unselfish  now.  It  dominated  every  fibre 
of  his  soul. 

He  was  silent  for  a  while. 

He  had  caught  at  a  chance  at  the  musicale  to 
speak  to  Ensign  Harry ;  and  she,  in  the  innocence 
of  her  heart,  had  told  him  the  whole  story.  How 
Molly  was  the  daughter  of  a  rich  man,  but  had 
preferred  this  life  to  the  grandeur  of  her  own 
home ;  how  sweet  and  gracious  she  was  ;  how  she 
won  the  hearts  of  all  who  saw  her ;  and  finally 
how,  though  her  father  at  first  had  almost  dis- 
owned her,  that  now  he  was  willing  she  should 
come  to  the  house  whenever  she  would. 

So  he  sat  there  dreaming.  Suppose  !  and  sup- 
pose !  and  suppose !  "  And  if  she  once  gets  in- 
terested in  me,  as  a  stranger,  sufficiently  so  to 
allow  me  sometimes  to  accompany  her,  I  will  wait 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


for  love  —  yes,  for  years  if  need  be.  But  sup- 
pose she  should  ask  me  to  accompany  her  to  her 
own  house  —  what  then  ?  Only  that  the  banker 
will  question  my  standing,  ridicule  my  assumed 
poverty,  grow  furious  over  my  audacious  preten- 
sions. What  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

Clearly  there  was  but  one  thing. 

"  Reveal  my  identity  to  him.  I'll  do  it,  and 
soon." 

The  next  evening  found  him  on  the  way  to 
Banker  Stanley's  residence.  He  was  ushered  into 
the  hall,  a  square  apartment  of  princely  dimen- 
sions, where  stood  chairs  for  lounging,  screens  of 
Oriental  richness,  and  tall  hassocks  on  each  side 
of  the  wide  fireplace. 

"That's  Stacey's  voice!"  said  the  banker  to 
himself,  hearing  it  through  the  open  door  ;  and  he 
rushed  forward  to  meet  him,  but  recoiled  as  the 
stranger  came  forward  step  by  step. 

Who  was  this  man  with  Stacey's  voice,  —  a  man 
in  a  working  garb,  his  face  tanned,  blue  specta- 
cles, long  mutton-chop  whiskers,  a  cross,  in  his 
manner  and  dress,  between  the  professional  man 
and  the  laborer  ? 

"  Mr.  Stanley  !  You  don't  recognize  me,"  said 
the  stranger,  coming  forward  all  smiles. 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  do.  Excuse  me,  but  I 
thought  I  knew  the  voice.  You  haven't  got  a 
package  of  dynamite  about  you,  have  you  ?  Be- 
cause if  you  have,  I'll  pull  this  cord,  and  there'll 


AN    INTERVIEW    WITH    THE    BANKER  IQI 

be  fireworks  of  the  liveliest  description.  Great 
heavens  !  Stacey  !  Stacey  after  all !  What  the 
devil  does  this  mean  ? "  for  the  young  man  had 
taken  off  his  blue  spectacles,  and  with  a  touch 
pushed  back  his  wig,  disclosing  the  eyes  and  fea- 
tures of  Stacey. 

"It  means  —  no  dynamite,"  laughed  Stacey. 

"  Why,  you  dear  fellow  !  God  bless  you  !  "  and 
of  a  sudden  Stacey  felt  himself  enclosed  in  a  pair 
of  stalwart  arms. 

"  You  make  almost  a  child  of  me.  I  think  you 
made  a  fool  of  me  once  before,  in  my  own  bank- 
ing-house, by  Heaven  !  But  I  forgive  you  —  I  see 
it  all  —  I  give  you  welcome,  a  hearty  welcome  ! 
And  as  to  the  dynamite,  my  dear  fellow  —  read 
this  note,  and  then  sit  down  and  let  me  look  at 
you.  Where  have  you  been  all  this  time  ?  What ! 
you  persist  in  wearing  your  disguise  ?  I  don't 
like  it.  What  does  it  mean  ? " 

"I  will  tell  you  —  but  first  let  me  read  this 
note.  Ah  !  I  see  "  — 

Send  me  three  thousand  dollars  or  I  will  blow  you  up. 

ONE  WHO  MEANS  IT. 

"That's  cheerful,"  said  young  Stacey.  "Well, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ? " 

"  Run  the  risk,"  laughed  the  banker.  "  Of 
course  it's  some  fool.  You  see,  he  don't  even  say 
where  I'm  to  send  it.  Oh  !  that  is  nothing  compared 
to  some  of  my  correspondence.  I  confess,  though, 


IQ2  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

that  when  I  saw  you,  an  apparent  stranger,  coming 
in  with  a  familiarity  that  looked  as  if  you  knew 
the  house,  I  was  a  little  startled.  I've  been  deal- 
ing heavily  in  bonds  for  the  last  month,  and  nego- 
tiating largely  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  it 
has  gotten  noised  about.  Ah,  there  are  rogues  in 
plenty  —  and  dynamite  is  cheap.  Let  me  ring  for 
some  refreshments." 

"No;  not  a  thing,"  said  Stacey,  "till  after  I 
have  told  you  my  story.  My  present  name  is 
John  Hardy." 

"  Your  present  name  !  You  startle  me.  What 
blunder  have  you  committed  that  calls  for  an 
alias?  By  Heaven,  the  mystery  grows  !  " 

"  It  is  nothing  very  alarming,"  said  Stacey ; 
"  and  I  should  have  preferred  keeping  my  incog- 
nito, only  circumstances  might  combine  in  such 
a  way  as  to  make  it  embarrassing,  if  not  difficult. 
I  need  not  express  to  you  again  how  much  I  love 
Molly." 

"  No  —  and  you  have  my  sanction  —  always 
have  had." 

"  She  repulsed  me." 

"Yes;  and  lessened  my  respect  for  her  good 
judgment." 

"She  prefers  Paradise  Flats  and  a  section  of 
the  Salvation  Army  —  and  God  bless  her  for 
it!" 

"  What ! "  the  banker  had  risen,  and  was  taking 
short  strides  about  the  room.  "You  bless  that 


AN    INTERVIEW    WITH    THE    BANKER  193 

confounded  little  idiot  for  going  counter  to  my 
will,  and  making  a  blanked  fool  of  herself  ?  " 

"  I  bless  her  for  her  endeavors  to  benefit  hu- 
manity. There  isn't  much  hope  in  it ;  but  there 
is  something  sublime  in  the  girl's  efforts  which 
neither  you  nor  I  have  the  large  gift  of  grace  to 
understand.  I  can  do  so  in  a  measure.  It  may 
be  fanaticism  ;  but  if  so,  it  is  of  the  highest  order 
and  the  purest  kind.  One  evening,  as  I  was  sit- 
ting in  my  room  at  the  hotel,  an  idea  struck  me. 
Molly  had  talked  to  me  plainly,  accusing  me  of 
selfishness,  dilettantism,  and  good-for-nothingness 
in  general.  She  was  right.  I  did  not  see  it  then, 
but  I  do  now." 

"  The  queerest  chicken  that  ever  grew  up  with- 
out a  mother's  protecting  wing,"  muttered  the 
banker.  "  She  makes  me  wonder  how  she  came 
to  belong  to  me." 

"  As  I  was  saying,  an  idea  entered  my  brain, 
upon  which  I  acted  at  once.  It  was  that  I  would 
win  Molly  on  her  own  ground  ;  that  is,  by  taking 
the  character  of  a  workingman  with  —  modestly 
I  state  it  —  superior  abilities  to  the  average.  By 
living  near  her,  and  working  in  her  direction,  I 
could  at  once  protect  and  reach  her." 

The  banker  had  ceased  walking,  and  now 
stood  in  front  of  Stacey,  his  hands  in  his  pock- 
ets, chuckling.  Suddenly  he  shook  him  by  the 
shoulders. 

"  By  Jove,  Stacey  !  you  are  a  trump  !  "  he  ex- 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

claimed.  "  What  a  pity  to  hide  such  a  headpiece 
as  yours  under  a  wig  !  But  I  see,  I  see ;"  and  he 
laughed  on  in  a  pleased  way. 

"  So  I  adopted  this  disguise,  took  a  room  in 
Paradise  Flats, — there  are  always  rooms  to  rent 
in  those  places,  —  established  myself  there,  and 
pass  under  the  guise  of  a  journeyman  printer." 

"  Upon  my  word  !  "  exclaimed  the  banker,  more 
and  more  delighted. 

"  I  am  a  self-made  man,  you  understand  ;  that 
is,  to  all  appearance  —  I  don't  say  anything  about 
it  —  with  aspirations  beyond  my  calling.  I  have 
an  ambition  to  study  surgery,  and  a  leaning  toward 
philanthropy  and  misanthropy,  in  a  religious  way 
—  see  ?  I  attend  the  Salvation  meetings,  and 
get  no  harm  from  that.  Upon  my  word,  I'm  be- 
ginning to  respect  those  Salvation  people." 

"  Well,  I  confess  to  a  little  leaning  that  way 
myself,"  the  banker  agreed,  pulling  at  one  side  of 
his  abundant  gray  mustache.  "  I  wish  they  would 
convert  those  dynamite  fiends,  and  put  on  decent 
bonnets  —  the  women,  I  mean.  They  go  by  here 
every  Thursday  night ;  and,  by  Jove,  they're  going 
by  now  !  " 

The  two  men  went  toward  the  window.  It  was 
a  splendid  moonlight  evening.  Now  and  then  a 
carriage  rolled  by  ;  the  streets  showed  long  lines 
of  silver,  and  straight  into  the  light  came  the 
little  band  on  their  way  to  some  service.  Sud- 
denly they  struck  into  song,  with  which  the  click 


AN    INTERVIEW    WITH    THE    BANKER  195 

of  the  castanets  mingled,  and  the  clear,  prolonged 
sound  of  the  bugle  aiding  the  voices  of  the 
women. 

Every  word  came  full,  sonorous,  distinct ;  every 
form  seemed  outlined  in  moonlight,  as  they  broke 
out,  opposite  the  banker's  house,  — 

"  On,  soldiers,  to  the  front ! 

Rescue  or  death ! 
Go,  save  the  perishing, 

So  my  Lord  saith. 
Up  with  your  banners, 

Swords  lifted  bright, 
Save  fallen  souls  for  heaven, 

God,  and  the  right!  " 

The  two  men  moved  back,  looking  into  each 
other's  eyes.  Neither  of  them  spoke  for  a  time. 
Then  Stacey  said,  his  voice  trembling  a  little,  — 

"  Is  Molly  with  them  ?  " 

"  No,"  the  banker  made  reply.  "  She  promised 
me  she  would  never  march  with  them  at  night. 
That's  the  only  concession  I  could  get." 

"  They  don't  do  that  for  money ;"  it  was  Stacey 
who  spoke  again. 

"  Well,  hardly,"  said  the  banker,  his  voice  a 
little  husky.  He  was  thinking  of  Molly ;  and  in 
spite  of  himself  a  sort  of  pride  in  her  self-abnega- 
tion rose  in  his  heart  —  a  feeling  that  astonished 
as  well  as  annoyed  him." 

"  Isn't  it  horrid  ?  " 

The  voice,  high-pitched  and  petulant,  sounded 


196  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

near.  In  a  rich  dress  of  crepc-de-Chine,  the  strong 
light  bringing  out  the  sheen  of  the  lustrous  pearls 
that  shimmered  all  over  its  voluminous  folds,  stood 
Lucy.  The  long,  undulating  train,  the  richness 
of  the  costly  material,  the  soft  white  arms  bare 
to  the  shoulders,  the  edging  of  rich  lace  curling 
about  a  faultless  bust,  formed  altogether  a  picture 
that  to  the  careless  observer  was  worthy  of  all  ad- 
miration. 

"  They  make  me  wild  with  their  horrid  music," 
was  her  next  remark.  "  I  only  came,  uncle,  to 
show  my  new  dress,"  she  added  in  a  lower  tone, 
as  Stacey  moved  away  to  the  corner  of  the  room 
intent  upon  a  picture;  "do  you  like  it  ? " 

"  It's  very  pretty,"  said  the  banker,  "  very  ! " 
but  he  was  thinking  of  any-  and  everything  but 
her. 

"  I  only  wanted  you  to  see  me  before  I  went  to 
Mrs.  Shaw's  musicale.  I'm  so  delighted  that  I'm 
going!  There  will  be  the  best  professional  music, 
and  then  Mrs.  Shaw's  spreads  are  something  di- 
vine !  I  didn't  know  you  had  company.  Au  re- 
voir ;  "  and  she  was  gone. 

"  Takes  to  it  as  naturally  as  ducks  to  water, 
doesn't  she  ?  "  the  banker  asked,  as  the  two  men 
met  again  near  the  table  in  the  middle  of  the 
room.  "I  —  thought  there  was  no  need  of  an  in- 
troduction ;  she  considered  you  some  workingman 
calling  on  business." 

Stacey  was  thinking  of  the  musicale  he  had  at- 


AN    INTERVIEW    WITH    THE    BANKER  IQ/ 

tended  so  lately  in  Paradise  Flats.  This  gorgeous 
creature  of  fashion  in  comparison  with  Molly  in 
her  chintz  dress  was  as  that  of  a  princess  to  a 
peasant  girl ;  yet  how  incomparably  more  beautiful 
was  the  real  heir  of  all  this  grandeur !  The 
world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  were  written  in 
marked  characters  all  over  Lucy's  sparkling  per- 
sonality; for  had  she  not  sold  herself,  body  and 
soul,  for  the  sake  of  those  advantages  which 
wealth  confers  ? 

"  To  return  to  what  I  was  saying,"  Stacey  went 
on,  "  I  thought  that  in  some  way  I  could  make 
myself  of  use  to  Molly.  It  unnerved  me  to  think 
of  her  in  that  house  alone,  so  I  laid  my  plans  as 
you  have  heard." 

"  And  so  you  are  an  inmate  of  Paradise  Flats  ? " 
the  banker  exclaimed,  as  the  two  men  sat  down 
again,  facing  each  other. 

"  Certainly  I  am ;  and  intend  to  constitute  my- 
self her  special  guardian,  whether  she  will  or  not. 
I  am  going  to  try  under  this  guise  to  make  myself 
so  worthy  of  her  love  that  she  will  accept  the  poor 
printer  for  a  husband  where  she  rejected  the  mil- 
lionaire. This  explanation  seemed  necessary,  so, 
if  she  should  condescend  to  take  me  for  her  escort, 
as  she  may  some  time,  you  will  be  on  your  guard." 

"  I  see,  I  see  ! "  said  the  banker,  a  touch  of  glee 
in  his  rather  gruff  voice.  "  Well,  it's  the  most  ro- 
mantic thing  I've  ever  heard  of.  No  one  but  a 
man  who  has  plenty  of  money,  can  write  when  he 


198  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

wishes,  poetize  when  he  pleases,  and  play  the  fiddle, 
would  ever  have  thought  of  it,  by  Jove  !  And  I 
wish  you  all  the  luck  in  life.  If  I  were  a  young 
man  I  wouldn't  mind  going  through  the  same  ex- 
perience. It  gives  a  zest  to  existence,  which  grop- 
ing around  for  values,  and  hunting  up  securities, 
and  even  handling  millions,  doesn't  touch." 

And  then  happened  what  neither  of  them  had 
expected. 

The  door  opened,  and  Molly  entered.  If  Stacey 
didn't  bless  his  stars  that  he  had  declined  to  throw 
off  at  least  a  part  of  his  disguise,  he  never  blessed 
them  for  anything. 

"  O  dear  papa ! "  said  Molly,  while  Stacey 
glowed  and  bowed  ;  then  hurriedly  took  his  leave. 


MY    PRINTER  199 


CHAPTER   XXV 

MY    PRINTER 

And  knew  that  it  was  love, 

"  Do  you  know  him,  papa  ?  "  Molly  asked,  con- 
scious and  provoked  that  she  was  blushing. 

"  Eh  ?  Slightly,  my  dear,  slightly,"  was  the 
guarded  reply.  "  He  comes  to  me  now  and  then 
for  advice." 

"Ah  !"  said  Molly,  on  her  guard  also. 

"  Yes  —  very  good  sort  of  man  —  for  —  ahem  — 
his  station  —  a  printer  —  so  he  tells  me.  Very 
good  !  I  shall  put  some  work  in  his  way." 

Puff,  puff,  went  the  pipe,  while  the  banker 
poked  his  papers  about  with  an  air  of  indifference. 

What  would  happen  next  ? 

Molly  was  bewildered.  Mr.  Stanley  was  not, 
to  her  knowledge,  in  the  habit  of  speaking  of 
working-people  in  other  than  patronizing  tones. 
Indeed,  he  was  patronizing  now,  but  there  was  a 
difference. 

"  I  came  a  little  late,  papa,  because  I  have  some 
business  to  transact.  I  must  say  good-by,  and  go 
back  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Well,"  her  father  responded,  "let  me   know 


2OO  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

how  much  you  want.  I'm  in  the  mood  to  give 
you  a  large  check." 

"  No,  papa,  I  don't  want  any  money  ;  but  I  have 
come  to  you  to  talk  about  money,  and  Sebastian 
Bassett." 

"A  drunken  brute,  if  I  recollect  rightly,"  her 
father  said. 

"  Drunken,  but  never  brutal,"  Molly  said,  unty- 
ing her  hat-strings.  "  I  also  spoke  of  an  English 
lady  who  came  to  see  me  about  him." 

"Yes  ;  his  sister,  wasn't  she?" 

"  Oh,  no ! "  Molly's  face  grew  sympathetic. 
"  From  all  I  can  gather,  she  is  his  cousin  by  the 
second  remove,  and  devoted  to  him.  She  told  me 
a  part  of  her  sad  story.  It  appears  they  were 
once  engaged  to  be  married.  The  man  gave 
great  promise  of  reaching  a  high  eminence  in  his 
profession.  He  fell  again  and  again,  but  every 
time  promised  reformation." 

"Those  scamps  always  do,"  muttered  the 
banker. 

"  Yes.  He  was  exceedingly  fond  of  society, 
and  belonged  to  several  clubs.  On  the  last  time 
appointed  for  the  ceremony,  he  came  home  so 
drunk  that  the  wedding  had  to  be  postponed." 

"  Indefinitely,  I  should  hope,"  supplemented 
the  banker. 

"Yes  ;  and  her  heart  was  nearly  broken." 

"  What !  she  could  still  love  that  graceless 
scamp  ? "  the  banker  asked. 


MY    PRINTER  2OI 

'•  Yes ;  and  does  yet.  She  has  spent  almost  a 
fortune  in  trying  to  reclaim  him." 

"  Then  more's  the  pity  for  her,"  he  rejoined. 

"  Yes,  the  more's  the  pity ;  for  two  lives  are 
ruined,"  said  Molly.  "  But  to  come  to  the  point 
of  this  story.  Sebastian's  mother  is  dead,  and 
has  left  in  this  lady's  trust  a  fortune  for  her  son  ; 
that  is,  to  one  situated  as  he  is  at  present  it 
would  seem  like  a  fortune, — ten  thousand  pounds  ! 
Now,  the  question  is,  how  to  manage  matters  ?  If 
he  should  come  into  possession  at  once,  he  would 
squander  it  —  drink  to  excess,  probably  drink 
himself  to  death.  The  cousin  says  she  thinks  it 
the  wiser  course  to  deal  it  out  sparingly,  letting 
him  believe  that  some  friend  is  helping  him.  She 
wishes  me  to  be  her  almoner  and  banker,  and  to 
put  the  money  at  interest.  What  would  you  sug- 
gest ? " 

"It  is  a  somewhat  delicate  question,"  her  father 
said,  tapping  the  table  with  his  gold-bowed  glasses  ; 
"and  I  should  rather  submit  it  to  a  lawyer.  Colby 
Brothers,  who  you  know  transact  all  my  business 
of  that  sort,  could  decide.  I'm  willing  to  do  what 
I  can  ;  but  you  see,  money  is  money,  especially  a 
legacy,  and  I  wouldn't  touch  it  without  legal  ad- 
vice." 

"  Then,  shall  I  go  to  them  ? "  asked  Molly. 

"  As  the  matter  has  been  committed  to  your 
judgment,  I  rather  think  you  would  better,"  her 
father  said.  He  was  not  averse  to  giving  his 


2O2  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

daughter  a  practical  illustration  of  the  necessity 
for  extreme  caution  in  the  disposal  of  money.  He 
knew  that  she  had  a  clear,  logical  mind  ;  and  if 
she  could  get  a  grasp  on  legal  principles,  it  would 
enable  her  to  use  her  own  fortune,  when  he  had 
gone,  to  better  advantage.  As  to  her  fearless- 
ness, he  had  had  sufficient  proof  of  that ;  so  he  de- 
cided to  put  her  on  her  mettle,  advise  her,  and  let 
her  carry  on  the  business  herself.  It  was  curious 
to  see  this  old  hard-headed  man  talking  with  the 
sweet-faced  woman  before  him  exactly  as  if  she 
had  been  a  man,  and  in  his  secret  soul  hugging 
the  thought  that  in  all  the  wide  world  there  were 
not  many  such  daughters  as  she. 

For,  banker,  financier,  capitalist  though  he  was, 
every  energy  strung  to  the  highest  tension  of 
business,  there  was  in  him  the  capacity  to  be 
what  he  good-naturedly  called  those  whose  zeal 
bore  them  into  the  ranks  of  enthusiasts,  —  "a  first- 
class  crank." 

Molly  rose  to  go. 

"  How  will  you  get  home  ? "  he  asked. 

The  girl  pointed  to  her  badge.  "Everybody 
respects  this,"  she  said.  "  By  the  way,  where  is 
Lucy  ? " 

" Gone  to  a  musicale"  was  the  answer. 

"  Don't  you  ever  go  with  her  ? " 

"  Not  to  those  crushes,  if  you  please.  Besides, 
she  has  her  escort." 

"  And  when  is  she  to  be  married  ? " 


MY    PRINTER  2O3 

"This  day  six  months,"  he  answered. 

"  Then  what  will  you  do  ? " 

"  I  expect  by  that  time  my  daughter  will  return 
to  her  duties  in  her  father's  house,"  he  replied 
gravely. 

"  O  papa  !  I  have  devoted  my  life  to  the  work," 
was  her  quick  answer. 

"Charity  begins  at  home.  Come  and  try  your 
magic  on  me  for  a  little  while.  Or  perhaps  the 
poor  old  man  is  not  worth  the  trouble  of  saving." 

"  O  papa  !  "  and  she  folded  her  two  arms  about 
his  neck,  and  kissed  him  fervently.  "  If  you  con- 
sider yourself  such  a  heathen  that  you  need  my 
help,  why,  I'm  willing  to  begin  now.  Only  you 
must  come  with  me,"  she  added  playfully. 

"  What !  to  Paradise  Flats  ?  "  he  exclaimed, 
laughing.  "  Do  you  think  your  handsome  printer 
would  take  me  in  ?  " 

"My  printer!"  she  exclaimed  with  a  fair  show 
of  indignation.  "  Papa  !  " 

"  Well,  well  !  I  meant  nothing,  of  course,"  he 
made  reply.  "  But,  Molly  —  come  as  often  as  you 
can.  And  don't  hesitate  to  ask  me  for  a  check 
now  and  then." 

Then  she  gave  him  another  kiss,  with  tears  in 
her  eyes,  —  surely  he  was  doing  his  utmost  to  draw 
her  toward  him, — and  bade  him  good-night. 


2O4  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

AN    UNWELCOME    FOLLOWER 
Thick,  guttural,  maudlin  tones. 

As  Molly  moved  down  the  street,  a  shadow 
emerged  from  the  corner,  followed  by  John  Hardy. 

"  Do  you  object  to  my  walking  with  you,  Miss 
Stanley  ?  "  he  asked,  so  gently,  so  deferentially, 
in  that  low,  musical  voice  of  his,  which,  in  spite  of 
herself,  she  compared  to  Stacey's,  that  she  could 
not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  say  no. 

"  You  did  not  go  to  the  meeting  to-night,"  he 
said,  as  they  walked  together. 

"  No  ;  I  had  some  business  to  transact."  Then 
they  went  on  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes. 

"  I  also  made  a  business  call,"  he  said.  "  But 
the  meetings  are  growing  very  interesting  to  me ; 
and  since  the  people  are  willing  to  listen,  I  am 
willing  to  be  led  by  them.  I  can  say  that  I  was 
never  in  the  midst  of  such  a  downright  set  of 
people  before." 

"  Because  they  are  in  earnest,"  said  Molly. 

"  Exactly  —  I  feel  that ;  but  what  they  do  inte- 
rests me  more  than  what  they  say.  If  ever  I  am 
converted,  it  will  be  because  with  them  faith  and 
works  go  together." 


AN    UNWELCOME    FOLLOWER  2O5 

They  were  passing  a  low  grog-shop.  Standing 
in  the  doorway,  in  the  full  glare  of  the  blood-red 
light,  was  Sebastian,  a  wolfish  look  in  his  eyes,  a 
saturnine  expression  in  the  face  usually  so  good- 
humored. 

He  tipsily  removed  his  hat,  lifting  the  broken 
brim,  for  he  recognized  Captain  Molly ;  then,  stag- 
gering, followed  her.  A  wild  idea  had  taken  pos- 
session of  his  besotted  brain  ;  it  was  that  the  man 
beside  her  meant  mischief. 

"  You  jes'  le'  go  of  her,"  he  muttered,  coming 
up  to  the  two,  and  touching  Stacey  on  the  arm. 

"See  here,  my  man,  you  don't  know  what  you're 
talking  about,"  said  Stacey  kindly  ;  "  move  on  — 
let  us  pass." 

"  Sha'n't  do  any  such  thing,"  said  the  drunken 
man.  "I'm  a  gen'leman  ;  you're  a — -a. —  Lord 
knows  what  —  I'm  an  English  gen'leman,  coat  of 
arms  and  all  that  —  good  family  —  born  to  influ- 
ence —  unfortunate  —  able  to  sell  pictures  for 
thousands  —  she's  a  lady  —  banker's  daughter  — 
came  to  us  in  mishfortune  —  beautiful  girl  —  likes 
me,  likes  my  wife  an'  Sebastian  Junior  —  jest  you 
let  go  of  her." 

"  O  Mr.  Bassett ! "  said  Molly,  in  a  pleading 
voice,  "  let  us  alone.  I  have  placed  myself  under 
this  gentleman's  protection.  If  you  had  not  been 
drinking  you  would  know  better." 

"  Angel  of  my  life,"  said  Sebastian,  his  hand 
over  his  heart,  "  adorable  Miss  Stanley,  I  shall  be 


2O6  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

obliged  to  give  this  common  person  a  lesson  — 
I"- 

Before  he  could  go  farther,  Stacey  sent  him 
reeling,  with  one  blow,  headlong  into  the  gutter. 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,"  he  said  passionately ;  "  the 
drunken,  insolent  hound,  to  talk  to  a  lady  in  that 
way !  Now,  if  you  please,  we'll  hurry  a  little,  and 
I'll  come  back  and  see  what  I  can  do  for  the  man. 
What  if  you  had  been  alone  ?  I'm  not  fearful  that 
he  is  very  badly  done  for,  —  you  know  a  drunken 
man  seldom  gets  hurt  ;  but  if  any  bones  are 
broken,  I  know  how  to  set  them." 

Molly  quickened  her  steps.  To  tell  the  truth, 
she  was  a  little  frightened,  having  never  seen  the 
man  in  this  mood  before. 

What  if  he  should  go  home  in  the  same  condi- 
tion ?  Poor  little  Reine  and  the  baby  Sebastian 
were  wholly  unprotected  —  and  oh,  the  misery  of 
it !  they  were  housed  in  a  cellar,  while  there  was 
the  magic  of  money  just  let  into  their  lives,  and 
they  unconscious  of  the  fact. 

Stacey's  action,  though  for  the  moment  it  star- 
tled her,  yet  excited  her  admiration.  How  quickly 
it  was  done,  and  for  her  protection  !  She  scarcely 
knew  him,  yet  in  the  brief  time  of  their  acquain- 
tance he  had  exhibited  all  the  qualities  that  in 
her  eyes  made  a  man  admirable.  He  was  brave, 
studious,  outspoken,  and  musical.  No  doubt  he 
could  write  logically,  express  himself  in  verse,  and 
most  assuredly  he  played  the  violin  to  perfection. 


AN    UNWELCOME    FOLLOWER  2O/ 

She  had  never,  she  thought,  heard  a  better  ama- 
teur performer.  Even  Stacey,  who,  she  knew,  had 
possessed  excellent  talent  for  music,  did  not  play 
as  well  as  this  humble  mechanic. 

By  this  time  they  were  at  the  house.  Molly 
ran  up-stairs,  and  Stacey  hurried  back  to  the  scene 
of  the  disaster.  No  one  was  there.  Whether  the 
man  had  picked  himself  up,  and  gone  home,  so- 
bered a  little  by  the  encounter,  or  whether  the 
police  ambulance  had  conveyed  him  to  the  hos- 
pital, he  had  no  means  of  knowing. 


2O8  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

A    SWEET   OLD    SONG 
Clear  as  a  bell,  the  sweet  tones  rose. 

NAN  GARTIA  was  making  rapid  improvement 
in  her  studies.  The  professor  was  in  ecstasy. 
"  Great  heavens  !  She  causes  in  me  a  rapture  I 
cannot  control.  It's  in  the  blood,"  he  said.  "  The 
men  were  all  musicians,  and  the  mantle  has  fallen 
on  her.  My  millionaire  pupils  are  not  worth  a  rap 
in  comparison  with  this  little  pauper.  She  out- 
weighs them  all.  I  shall  make  her  queen  of  the 
violin." 

The  lessons  went  on  swimmingly.  Little  Nan, 
with  more  intelligent  feeding,  grew  strong,  rosy, 
and,  in  more  than  one  sense,  beautiful.  The  prac- 
tice on  the  roof  she  called  her  out-door  concerts, 
and  enjoyed  them  with  the  aid  of  an  old  music- 
stand  the  professor  had  given  her,  and  one  patched 
and  broken  chair  from  their  room  underneath. 

The  foot  passengers  below  often  heard  the 
sweet  strains  that,  caught  by  the  upper  air,  were 
wafted  down  into  the  crowded  streets  like  melo- 
dies from  heaven,  and  wondered  where  the  unseen 
musician  could  be.  No  eye  saw  the  child  perched 


A   SWEET   OLD   SONG 

up  in  her  wind-palace,  the  blue  dome  of  the  sky 
above,  the  southern  hilltops  in  the  distance,  play- 
ing away  for  dear  life  in  front  of  the  great  square 
chimney,  against  which  she  had  posted  herself  and 
her  music. 

"Captain  Molly  will  like  this,"  or  "Captain 
Molly  wants  me  to  do  that  "  —all  was  done  for  love 
of  Captain  Molly.  The  child  played  her  small 
duets  with  Mr.  John,  as  she  called  him.  They 
were  getting  on  famously,  the  three,  —  Molly, 
Stacey,  and  the  child.  Sometimes  they  all  met  in 
Captain  Molly's  room.  She  was  really  a  captain 
now,  having  earned  her  brevet  by  good  work ;  and 
though  she  did  not  crave  the  title,  she  felt  that  it 
gave  her  an  additional  influence  among  the  people 
she  sought  to  help. 

It  was  getting  near  winter,  and  the  evenings 
were  long.  After  the  day's  duties,  it  was  the  usual 
habit  to  meet  in  Captain  Molly's  room  for  prac- 
tice. 

What  charming  rehearsals  they  were  !  Molly  at 
the  piano,  Nan  on  one  side,  Stacey  on  the  other. 

With  sweet,  flushed  face  Captain  Molly  would 
demonstrate  some  particular  movement,  or  call 
Stacey's  attention  to  something  forgotten,  —  pur- 
posely forgotten,  alas  !  —  and  Nan  would  watch  to 
catch  the  slightest  inspiration  from  face  and  fin- 
gers. Now  and  then  Mrs.  McKisseth  sat  in  an 
armchair  by  the  fire,  knitting  and  listening.  And 
yet,  though  Harry  hinted,  and  Stacey  hoped,  Molly 


2IO  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

did  not  realize  that  she  was  slowly  and  surely  drift- 
ing into  that  passion  which  idealizes  all  life.  It 
was  a  rapturous  repose  after  the  hard  duties  of  the 
day,  once  or  twice  in  a  week  to  meet  thus  to- 
gether, to  compare  notes,  keep  up  practice,  and 
look  into  the  luminous  eyes  whose  brightness  the 
blue  spectacles  did  not  altogether  hide. 

Stacey,  after  long  and  decent  opposition,  had 
grounded  arms,  and  laid  down  the  weapons  of  his 
warfare.  There  was  a  fascination  in  the  method 
used  to  convince  him  that  he  could  not  resist  — 
there  was  a  more  subtle  fascination  in  the  gentle 
witcheries  of  Captain  Molly.  Besides  that,  his 
deeper  nature  was  roused  to  the  needs  of  the 
human  beings  around  him.  He  had  never  been 
brought  face  to  face  with  poverty  before.  Crump 
the  tailor  was  an  enigma  to  him  ;  and  his  out- 
spoken dislike  to  the  "Damnation  Army,"  as  the 
little  tailor  persisted  in  calling  it,  amused  more 
than  it  revolted  him.  He  saw  how,  for  love  of  the 
child,  the  crooked  mind  of  the  tailor  relaxed  its 
rigidity,  and  let  the  girl  Mandy  go  her  way  in 
peace.  He  saw  what  he  had  never  even  suspected, 
—  that  the  poor  were  kinder  to  each  other,  their 
love  ran  in  broader,  deeper  channels,  their  sympa- 
thies were  quicker,  than  in  the  more  advanced 
class  of  which  he  was  an  exponent. 

It  was  a  constant  wonder  to  him  that  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Army  were  so  indefatigable  in  their 
efforts  to  raise  the  fallen  and  rescue  the  perish- 


A    SWEET    OLD    SONG  211 

ing.  What  but  a  pure  and  exalted  emotion  carried 
those  delicate  women  into  dens  foul  with  disease, 
sent  them  on  their  knees  to  clean  the  kennels  of 
vice,  and  gave  them  patience  to  teach  where  sel- 
dom gratitude  repaid  ?  There  must  be  some  great 
underlying,  upholding  motive. 

And  so  he  surrendered  ;  not  as  he  had  expected 
to  do,  for  the  sake  of  gaining  the  heart  of  the  fair 
captain  only,  but  because  he  was  convinced  of 
their  purity,  self-denial,  and  power. 

To  confess  himself  vanquished,  and  to  ask  for 
help  in  his  search  after  light,  was  to  make  large 
inroads  into  Captain  Molly's  heart.  She  called 
him  a  dear  friend,  almost  a  brother  —  a  very  help- 
ful brother,  to  whom  she  felt  it  not  unseemly  to 
go  for  advice.  She  never  thought  of  the  future, 
so  had  she  accustomed  herself  to  believe  that  her 
life  had  been  given  her  to  consecrate  to  the  work 
of  reform.  That  he  should  give  his  also  for  the 
same  object  was  natural  to  suppose ;  and  so  why 
might  they  not  go  on,  working  side  by  side  for 
the  regeneration  of  the  world  ? 

Ensign  Harry  had  her  own  little  notions  on  the 
subject.  She  watched  and  smiled,  and  then 
watched,  often  with  a  saddened  and  perplexed 
face,  as  she  whispered  to  her  own  heart,  "  They 
love  each  other.  What  will  be  the  outcome  ? 
Probably  entire  alienation  from  her  family  —  and 
he  a  poor  man  !  " 

As  for  Stacey,  he  could  sing :  — 


212  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Ceremony  was  devised  at  first, 
To  set  a  gloss  on  faint  deed  —  hollow  welcomes, 
Recanting  goodness,  sorry  ere  'tis  shown  ; 
But  where  there  is  true  friendship,  there  needs  none." 

The  flavor  of  Bohemia  attracts  most  men,  —  the 
Bohemia  of  heartily  human,  happy-go-lucky  beings, 
with  as  distinctive  an  air  of  exclusiveness  as  be- 
longs to  those  who  call  themselves  better  than 
their  fellows ;  and  this  was  partly  what  attracted 
Stacey,  whose  one  only  and  definite  aim  had  been 
to  steal  the  love  of  the  woman  who  had  so  ruth- 
lessly cast  him  aside. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  hear  me  recite  or  sing 
one  of  these  times  ? "  asked  Mrs.  McKisseth  one 
night,  when  the  elements  were  at  war,  and  Molly 
and  Stacey  were  making  out  the  programme  for 
the  next  musicale. 

"  You  ! "  and  Captain  Molly  glowed  as  she 
smiled  in  the  apple-like  face  of  the  shrewd  old 
woman.  "  Why,  Mrs.  McKisseth,  I  cannot  tell 
you  what  a  treat  it  would  be." 

"  If  ye'll  hear  an  ould  Irish  song,  an*  ye'll  none 
o'  ye  make  faces  at  an  ould  woman's  singing,  ye 
may  put  me  down,"  said  Mrs.  McKisseth,  her 
eyes  twinkling.  "  'Twas  wrote  for  meself  by  a 
rare  Irishman,  who  knew  jest  how  to  touch  the 
heart-beats  of  sorrow,  an'  turn  'em  into  po'try," 
was  her  rejoinder. 

"  Sing  it,  granny,"  pleaded  Nan.  "  Sing  it  for 
them  now  as  you  sing  it  to  me." 


A    SWEET    OLD    SONG  213 

"  Git  away  wid  ye,  mavourneen,"  the  little  Irish- 
woman said,  with  a  shake  of  the  head. 

"Yes,  sing  it,  granny,  then  we  can  tell  how 
it  will  sound  when  the  company  is  here,"  said 
Captain  Molly. 

"  Give  me  a  drink  of  wather  then,  to  clear  the 
ould  pipes,"  was  the  laughing  answer.  And  then 
she  sang  in  a  sweet,  firm  voice,  that  as  Ensign 
Harry  afterwards  said  fairly  made  her  hair  rise,  it 
was  so  young  and  musical,  what  she  called  :  — 

AN  IRISH   LAMENT. 

But  oh,  the  dear,  dead  face, 

Wi'  its  olden  laughin'  light, 
There's  nothing  sure  like  drames 

To  cheat  us  in  the  seemin'. 
And  it's  what !  shall  I  be  sorry 

For  the  vision  of  the  night? 
Or  glad  we  two  did  meet 

In  the  misty  land  o'  dreamin'? 

And  och !  his  dear,  sweet  face ! 

Wid  the  glad  smile  upon  it, 
Which  once  could  light  the  hearth 

When  the  coals  was  dead  and  dhry. 
If  there's  anywheres  a  home 

Wid  the  saints,  my  Jamie's  won  it; 
But  I  am  left  a  stranded  weed, 

Atwixt  the  earth  and  sky. 

The  day,   I  long  to  have  it  gone, 

The  night,  I  wist  it  past, 
I'm  all  in  ruins  since  the  hour 

I  dressed  his  death-cold  clay. 


214  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

Would  I  let  another  touch  the  boy, 

Whose  curls  my  hand  cut  last? 
I  loved  to  black  the  very  shoon 

He  wore  from  day  to  day. 

No,  there  was  nothin'  menial 

In  what  I  did  for  Jamie, 
I'd  give  my  eyes  to  plase  him 

To  make  him  smart  and  fine. 
I  loved  to  tie  his  kerchief  on, 

The  merry  whistling  laddie, 
And  get  a  chuck  aneath  the  chin, 

An'  his  two  lips  on  mine. 

I'm  aye  the  sorrowfulest  wife, 

I  won't  say  widdy — no; 
Though  rains  have  wept  and  suns  have  smiled, 

And  lads  have  spoke  me  sweet. 
It's  by  mesilf  I'll  toil  in  tears, 

Mesilf,  I'll  sow  and  gather, 
I'll  just  drift  through  the  lonesome  years, 

'Til  my  dear  lad  I  meet. 

"Why,  it's  just  a  musical  wonder,"  said  Captain 
Molly,  catching  at  the  withered  hand.  "What  a 
singer  you  must  have  been  once  ! " 

"  Ay  —  they  said  my  voice  could  be  heard 
from  Glenairn  to  East  Wynd  on  a  clear  day,"  she 
said  joyously.  "Jamie  and  me  sang  in  the  mass 
in  the  great  cathedral,  and  many  a  stranger's 
come  across  the  river  to  hear  us.  Yes,  I  was  glai 
at  singing  in  my  younger  days ;  but  when  Jamie 
died,  I  lost  the  care  for  it,  though  not  the  love. 
If  I'd  had  a  chick  of  my  own,  she  should  have 
played  like  Nan  here  ;  but  I  never  did."  She  went 


A    SWEET    OLD    SONG  215 

on  knitting,  shaking  her  pretty  gray,  white-capped 
head. 

"But  who  wrote  the  poem  ?  "  asked  Stacey. 

"  Oh,  'twas  a  tall  lad  got  crossed  in  love,  and 
he  wore  black  hair  down  to  his  shoulthers.  They 
say  he  never  slept  in  a  house  after  that,  but  went 
wandering  round,  writin'  verses  for  folk,  and  sing- 
ing beautiful  himself.  He  was  a  North  of  Ireland 
man,  a  nephew  of  the  priest,  and  his  eyes  wor 
that  keen  that  they'd  make  you  shiver  to  look  at. 
The  girl  that  jilted  him  married  a  lord,  but  she 
only  lived  a  year.  Folks  said  it  was  a  sorrow  on 
her  because  she'd  turned  away  from  the  man  she 
loved  for  the  r'ason  that  he  was  poor.  Lord  bless 
you,  I'd  lived  wid  my  Jamie  in  a  mud-cabin  widout 
a  floor  ;  that  was  me  !  " 

Through  some  unknown  occult  influence  the 
.eyes  of  Captain  Molly  met  those  of  Stacey. 
What  was  it  that  sent  the  quick  blood  flushing 
along  her  cheek  —  who  could  tell  ? 

"  It's  very  curious,"  thought  she,  with  a  little 
shudder,  "  curious  and  foolish  too  !  I  like  him 
well  enough,  but  —  love  —  nonsense  ! " 


2l6  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

THE   LOST   CHILD 
O !  such  a  cry  wrung  from  a  mother's  heart. 

THERE  was  a  clatter  of  footsteps  on  the  stairs, 
a  cry,  a  succession  of  cries,  sharp,  distinct,  appall- 
ing. Ensign  Harry  sprang  to  her  feet ;  Stacey 
took  a  step  or  two  forward  ;  Molly  turned  pale,  for 
she  knew  the  voice. 

Ensign  Harry  opened  the  door  with  fear  and 
trembling.  There  stood  Reine,  her  face  distorted, 
her  eyes  swollen  with  weeping,  her  garments 
saturated  with  water. 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  has  happened,  Reine  ?  " 
asked  Molly,  rushing  towards  her. 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  the  baby !  "  cried  the  woman. 
"I  ran  out  after  him.  The  rain  is  pouring,  the 
wind  is  blowing  —  and  my  darling  has  only  his 
nightgown  on.  Sebastian  was  never  this  way  be- 
fore. Always  he  is  quiet  and  pleasant,  you  know, 
Miss  Stanley — but  to-night,  furious.  What  could 
I  do  ?  I  was  afraid  for  my  life.  He  said  the  dev- 
ils were  after  him.  Then  he  saw  baby  asleep  in 
his  little  new  wicker  cradle.  He  snatched  him  up 


THE    LOST    CHILD  2  \"J 

and  ran  out  into  the  storm.  Oh,  it  does  storm 
so  !  My  baby  !  My  baby  !  " 

"  This  is  terrible  !  "  said  Captain  Molly.  "  What 
fiend  could  have  possessed  him  ?  What  will  he 
do  with  that  dear  child  ?  " 

"  Which  way  did  he  go  ?  "  asked  Stacey. 

"Down  the  street,  across  the  square.  I  fol- 
lowed him  till  all  at  once  I  lost  sight  of  him.  I 
went  hither  and  thither.  Nobody  had  seen  him. 
You  see  how  dripping  wet  I  am.  Oh,  but  what 
will  he  do  with  my  boy,  my  beautiful  boy  ?  "  and 
she  stood  there  wringing  her  hands.  "  I  dare  not 
go  out ;  I  dare  not  go  down-stairs.  I  am  almost 
crazy." 

Stacey,  who  had  left  the  room,  now  came  down, 
lantern  in  hand,  accoutred  for  the  storm.  He 
made  Reine  give  him,  in  as  concise  form  as  pos- 
sible, the  direction  taken  by  the  maniac ;  for  that 
he  undoubtedly  was,  —  an  utterly  irresponsible 
man  for  the  time  being.  He  went  out,  while  the 
women  found  dry  garments,  and  noted  how  like  a 
child  poor  little  Reine  looked  as  she  stood  in  her 
distress  by  the  fire,  robing  herself. 

"  I  couldn't  go  any  farther,"  she  sobbed  ;  "  my 
strength  gave  out.  I'm  all  of  a  tremble  now;  I 
feel  as  if  I  should  die.  O  my  precious  baby  ! 
And  there's  no  knowing  if  I  shall  ever  see  him 
again,  or  Sebastian  either." 

Now  it  was  that  Granny  McKisseth  came  to 
the  rescue  with  words  of  comfort,  and  took  the 


2l8  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

weeping  creature  in  her  arms  as  if  she  had  been 
her  own  child,  crooning  her  soft  Irish  lullaby  with 
the  poor  little  head  on  her  bosom. 

An  hour  passed  —  and  then  another.  The 
women  waited,  while  Reine,  having  fallen  asleep 
from  exhaustion,  breathed  heavily. 

At  last  Stacey  returned. 

Reine  still  slept. 

Sebastian,  the  father,  had  been  found,  but  no 
trace  yet  of  the  child ! 

Molly  clasped  her  hands  in  mute  agony.  What 
news  for  the  poor  mother  ! 

"  We  traced  him  down  to  the  river,"  said 
Stacey  in  low  tones,  while  the  fire-flames  brought 
into  strong  relief  every  emotion  pictured  on  the 
white  faces  turned  towards  him. 

"  And  do  you  think "  —  Molly  began  with 
trembling  lips,  but  could  get  no  farther. 

"  I  have  men  out  on  the  search.  I  don't  know 
what  to  think.  It  is  so  stormy —  nothing  further 
can  be  done  till  to-morrow.  Then  I  will  advertise 
—  set  the  whole  police-force  at  work  —  employ 
private  detectives." 

"  You  know  there  is  money  in  plenty,"  said 
Molly. 

"Yes,  I  know." 

They  had  not  yet  broken  the  news  of  Sebas- 
tian's good  fortune  to  him  or  to  his  wife.  The 
man  had  been  in  no  condition  to  understand  it  for 
weeks ;  Reine  had  all  the  money  she  needed,  and 


THE    LOST    CHILD 

as  usual  Sebastian  had  taken  his  meagre  earnings 
for  drink,  or  coaxed  his  wife  to  supply  him.  Mat- 
ters were  in  progress  to  provide  them  with  a 
better  home,  as  Reine  would  not  leave  him ;  and 
the  two  rooms  had  been  furnished  on  the  second 
floor,  where  they  might  live  in  comfort  till  the 
madman  either  reformed  or  died.  For  his  habits 
were  telling  on  Sebastian's  magnificent  frame  and 
originally  strong  constitution.  Instead  of  yield- 
ing to  his  inclination  once  a  week,  he  came  home 
daily  in  a  besotted  condition. 

"  Where  is  Sebastian  ?  "  asked  Molly. 

"  In  his  room.  I  put  him  immediately  under  the 
action  of  sedatives,  and  that,  added  to  his  great 
fatigue,  sent  him  to  sleep.  How  long  that  may 
continue  I  cannot  tell.  He  is  evidently  on  the 
eve  of  a  bad  delirium.  If  his  wife  can  be  kept 
here,  I  will  undertake  to  care  for  him." 

Every  preparation  was  made  for  the  night. 
Reine  was  wakened ;  but  it  was  evident  that  her 
grief  and  exposure  had  induced  fever,  for  she 
talked  incoherently,  and  appeared  oblivious  to  all 
her  surroundings. 

Stacey  made  the  man  his  charge,  and  shared 
with  Molly  the  care  of  poor  little  Reine,  who  for 
days  lay  unconscious,  and  wakened  at  last  to  a 
feeble  sense  of  her  misery. 

Meantime,  the  child  was  not  heard  of,  though 
every  means  had  been  employed  to  find  him. 

"We  shall  never  see  him   again,"  said  Molly. 


22O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  He  was  probably  thrown  into  the  river."  And  so 
the  disappearance  of  the  child  remained  shrouded 
in  mystery. 

Day  and  night,  night  and  day,  Stacey  fought 
the  fiend  in  Sebastian,  till  reason  conquered,  and 
the  man  slept  and  talked  naturally  once  more.  It 
had  been  a  case  of  great  interest  to  Stacey  from 
a  professional  point  of  view,  for  then  he  first  real- 
ized what  were  the  duties,  cares,  pleasures,  anxie- 
ties, of  the  profession  ;  and  he  became  so  absorbed 
that  he  scarcely  gave  himself  time  for  rest  or 
refreshment.  Many  times  he  despaired.  Often 
it  required  all  his  great  personal  strength  to  keep 
the  patient  within  bounds ;  and  his  joy  was  extreme 
when  at  last  he  saw  the  devils  he  had  been  fight- 
ing take  their  departure,  leaving  the  man  a  help- 
less white  hulk  lying  before  him,  conscious  at  last, 
though  weaker  than  a  child.  It  was  better  worth 
living  for,  more  exciting,  than  any  season  he  had 
ever  spent  among  the  votaries  of  wealth  and  fash- 
ion ;  and  he  blessed  Molly  in  his  heart  of  hearts, 
feeling  that  it  was  to  her  he  owed  the  luxury  of 
knowing  that  he  could  be  of  some  use  to  his  fel- 
low men. 

While  Reine  was  not  yet  out  of  danger,  Sebas- 
tian opened  his  eyes  one  morning,  looked  around, 
saw  a  strange  face  regarding  him,  and  closed  his 
eyes  again  with  a  movement  of  annoyance. 

"You're  all  right  now,"  said  Stacey,  going 
towards  the  bed.  "  It  was  a  hard  pull,  though." 


THE    LOST    CHILD  221 

"What's  been  the  matter?"  the  man  asked  sul- 
lenly, shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"Drunkenness,"  was  the  answer. 

"  What ! "  and  Sebastian  looked  up  wildly. 

"The  usual  results  of  whiskey  drinking,"  was 
Stacey's  reply ;  "  the  brain  congested,  the  liver 
inflamed,  the  stomach  ulcerated,  and  all  the  devils 
in  hell  after  you  in  full  force." 

"  In  other  words  ? "  muttered  the  man  intelli- 
gently. 

"  In  other  words,  a  drunken  madness,  delirium 
tremens,  mania  potn, —  call  it  by  either  name." 

"  Damnation  ! "  was  the  response. 

"  That's  it  exactly ;  as  you  would  have  found  to 
your  sorrow  if  you  had  gone  drunk  into  another 
existence." 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  me  ?  I'm  not  worth  sav- 
ing." 

"Hardly,"  was  the  cool  reply;  "but  your  wife 
seemed  concerned  about  you.  My  motto  for 
drunkards  is,  the  sooner  they  die  off,  the  better." 

"  Ain't  you  a  cool  kind  of  devil  ?  I  think  I've 
seen  you  before,"  said  Sebastian. 

"  One  has  to  be  cool  when  dealing  with  such 
fellows  as  you,"  was  the  answer.  "  Yes,  you  have 
seen  me  before,  on  several  occasions.  I  am  what 
you  might  call  a  humanitarian." 

"  Where's  my  wife  ?  "  was  the  next  question. 

"  Sick  of  typhoid  fever,  up-stairs  in  Captain 
Molly's  room." 


222  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Good  God  !  typhoid  fever !  Is  she  going  to 
die  ?  " 

"  I  hope  so,"  was  the  cool  response. 

"  What  kind  of  a  devil  are  you  ?  " 

"  A  devil  with  a  better  conscience  than  you 
have." 

"  Why  do  you  hope  that  ?  " 

"I  don't  really  see  what  she  has  to  live  for," 
was  the  reply.  "  You  can't  have  the  vanity  to  sup- 
pose that  she  cares  to  live  on  your  account." 

The  man's  countenance  fell.  "No;"  and  he 
shook  his  head  with  a  sigh.  "Poor  Reine  !  but 
the  baby !  She  might  want  to  live  for  little  Se- 
bastian. Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Some  of  the  women  have  got  him,  of  course." 

"  I  don't  know,"  Stacey  repeated  gravely.  He 
was  considering  what  course  he  should  pursue. 

"  The  boy  isn't  dead,  is  he  ? "  and  now  ensued 
the  first  symptoms  of  real  feeling  that  the  man  had 
yet  exhibited. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  To  hell  with  your  '  don't  knows.'  Where  is 
my  boy  ?  " 

"  I  tell  you  again  I  don't  know,"  said  Stacey. 
"  If  anybody  does,  you  ought  to." 

The  man  looked  at  him  with  wild,  widening 
eyes. 

"I  —  I  left  him  with  his  mother,"  was  the  re- 
ply. 


THE    LOST    CHILD  223 

"  Look  here,  my  friend,  you  are  sober  now.  As 
a  humanitarian,  I  brought  you  through  one  of  the 
worst  cases  of  alcoholic  frenzy  that  I  ever  heard 
or  read  of.  As  a  humanitarian,  perhaps  I  should 
have  let  you  die  for  the  good  of  the  survivors. 
You  came  home  drunk,  raving,  exactly  ten  days 
ago.  It  was  a  wild,  stormy  night.  The  fiends 
had  full  possession  of  you.  You  snatched  your 
boy,  little  Sebastian,  sleeping  soundly  in  his  cradle, 
and  rushed  out  into  the  storm  —  the  act  of  a  mad- 
man. Your  wife  followed  you  for  some  time,  but 
finally  lost  sight  of  you.  From  that  hour  to  this 
little  Sebastian  has  not  been  seen,  nor  can  we 
hear  any  news  of  him.  What  you  did  with  him 
God  only  knows,  and  may  He  have  mercy  on  your 
soul." 

The  effect  of  the  speech  was  startling.  Grasp- 
ing the  bedclothes  in  both  hands,  the  man  lifted 
himself,  haggardly  handsome  yet,  then  joined  his 
hands  above  his  head  with  a  frightful  imprecation. 

"  God  of  heaven  !  did  I  do  that,  or  are  you  tor- 
menting me  ?  "  he  shrieked. 

"Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  torment  you.  I 
leave  your  whiskey-drowned  conscience  to  do  that. 
You  love  whiskey  better  than  your  wife,  your  child, 
your  God." 

"  No,  no  !  don't  say  that !  There  is  nothing  in 
heaven  or  on  earth  that  I  love  as  I  love  little  Se- 
bastian ; "  and  the  bed  shook  with  his  heavy  sobs. 

"  If  you  had  been  a  sober  man,  you  might  to- 


224  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

day  have  rejoiced  in  your  child.  But  as  a  drunken 
father,  no  one  knows  what  you  have  done  with 
him — thrown  him  into  the  river  perhaps." 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  and  the  man  put  out  his  hands, 
agony  in  every  supplicating  movement.  "O  my 
boy,  my  boy !  My  beautiful,  cherubic,  angelic 
child!  Give  him  back  to  me,  O  great  God,  and 
I  swear  to  you  I  will  never  touch  a  drop  again  as 
long  as  I  live  ! "  His  powerful  frame  shook  in 
anguish. 

"Oh,  you  have  promised  that  a  thousand  times," 
said  Stacey.  "  Think  for  a  minute  —  search  your 
memory.  Where  did  you  go  with  him  ? " 

"  With  him  !  Sebastian  !  my  baby  !  out  in  the 
cold  and  rain  and  storm  !  as  God  lives,  I  don't  re- 
member that  I  touched  him.  I  did  not  !  You  are 
lying  to  me — trying  to  frighten  me  into  sobriety. 
Oh,  thank  you  for  it  —  thank  you  for  it !  Only  say 
you  are  trying  to  frighten  me  !  " 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  said  Stacey,  with  an  air  of 
such  sincerity  that  Sebastian  trembled  from  head 
to  foot.  His  strength  was  gone,  and  he  fell  back 
more  dead  than  alive. 

"  Are  —  you  —  still  — trying  "  —  he  whispered, 
"to  find  him?" 

"Yes  ;  we  are  still  trying —  trying  to  hope.  It 
is  so  long  since." 

"  I  took  my  baby  out  into  the  storm  !  Ten 
thousand  devils  !  If  ever  I  touch  another  drop  of 
the  infernal  stuff  may  God  consign  my  soul  to 


THE    LOST    CHILD  225 

eternal  damnation.  Give  me  a  Bible.  There's 
a  Bible  somewhere,  a  poor  torn  old  Bible.  Reine 
used  to  read  it,  poor  little  soul !  Yes,  that's  it  ; 
thank  you.  Open  it  where  the  name  of  God  is.  I 
believe  in  God.  Do  you  ?  Put  my  finger  on  the 
very  word.  I'm  too  weak.  Yes,  now  —  I  swear, 
with  my  finger  on  the  name  of  God  Almighty,  that 
I  hope  to  be  consigned  to  the  very  devils  that 
have  been  tormenting  me,  if  ever  I  touch  a  drop 
of  fermented  spirits  again,  so  help  me  God  ! " 

There  was  silence — but  in  the  distance  came 
the  mingled  sound  of  flutes  and  castanets.  On 
they  came,  the  music  growing  louder  —  on  to  Se- 
bastian's door,  when  they  broke  into  song  :  — 

"  Help  for  the  perishing, 

Rescue  or  death ! 
Help  for  the  perishing, 

So  my  Lord  saith. 
Up  with  your  banners, 

Swords  lifted  bright, 
Save  fallen  souls  for  heaven, 

God,  and  the  right!  " 

From  the  eyes  of  both  men  the  hot  tears  were 
welling  —  in  one  tears  of  sympathy,  in  the  other 
tears  of  repentance.  Stacey  almost  broke  down, 
when  Sebastian  said,  struggling  for  composure,  — 

"The  boy  loved  it  so  !  My  God  !  he  would  stop 
breathing  to  listen  —  and  his  eyes  "  —  a  great 
convulsive  sob  closed  the  sentence. 


226  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XXIX 
CAPTAIN  MOLLY'S  ANSWER 

You  witching  thing  with  eyes  like  stars! 

IN  Stacey's  mind  there  was  hope  for  Sebastian. 
The  loss  of  his  child,  his  anguish  at  having  been 
the  probable  murderer  of  the  thing  he  loved  best 
in  life,  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  the  man,  body 
and  soul.  He  said  very  little,  but  sat  brooding 
over  the  past,  and  it  was  difficult  to  attract  his 
attention.  He  seemed  to  shrink  from  the  thought 
of  seeing  Reine,  and  would  walk  the  floor  of  the 
rooms  to  which  his  furniture  had  been  transferred, 
his  moody  eyes  on  the  floor,  and  muttering  often 
the  words,  "  Too  late  !  too  late  !  " 

Stacey  had  undertaken  to  convey  to  him  the 
news  of  his  altered  fortune  ;  but  the  man  listened 
with  an  apathetic  stare,  and  only  muttered,  "  Too 
late  !  too  late  !  " 

He  seemed,  indeed,  to  take  no  further  interest 
in  life  ;  and  it  was  pitiful  to  see  him  sitting  plunged 
in  thought,  scarcely  moving  for  hours. 

Captain  Molly  had  caused  him  to  be  provided 
with  all  the  implements  of  his  profession,  but  in 
vain  she  coaxed  and  labored.  He  took  the  brush, 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY  S    ANSWER  227 

but  no  inspiration  followed.  His  heart  seemed 
dead  within  him. 

After  a  time  Reine  left  her  sick-room,  and  her 
forgiving  and  pitying  nature  yearned  toward  him. 
As  soon  as  she  could  be  moved,  she  also  was  domi- 
ciled in  her  new  quarters,  and  set  her  poor  wits  to 
work  to  try  and  comfort  him. 

The  cradle  had  been  taken  away.  Molly  put 
aside  the  pretty  clothes  that  had  belonged  to  the 
little  child,  and  silenced  gossip  as  best  she  could. 

One  heavenly  day  Stacey  asked  Molly  to  go 
with  him  on  a  mission  of  mercy. 

"  You  have  been  so  long  housed  up  that  it  will 
do  you  good  to  take  the  fresh  air,"  he  said.  "  A 
friend  of  mine  has  given  me  the  use  of  his  horses 
and  carriage.  The  drive  is  rather  a  long  one  ;  but 
we  shall  be  home  early  in  the  evening,  and  there 
will  be  a  full  moon." 

It  did  not  take  much  to  persuade  her,  and  Molly 
hastened  to  prepare  for  the  drive. 

Stacey  had  hoped  a  great  deal  from  this  occa- 
sion. He  was  relatively  sure  that  he  and  Molly 
understood  each  other  now,  and  quite  sure  that  he 
was  not  deceiving  her.  In  many  things  vital  to 
his  spiritual  life  he  knew  himself  to  be  a  changed 
man.  The  novelty  of  the  situation  had  worn  off, 
but  not  its  interest.  As  to  taking  her  from  her 
work,  he  was  not  eager  to  do  that,  at  least,  so  he 
tried  to  persuade  himself ;  but  he  wanted  her  —  he 
wanted  her  to  be  his  for  time  and  for  eternity. 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

The  drive  was  a  long  one,  twenty  miles  at  the 
least,  but  the  horses  were  strong  and  handsome ; 
in  fact,  Molly,  sitting  languidly  back  on  the  deli- 
cately upholstered  cushions,  wondered  what  friend 
would  trust  such  a  team  out  of  his  own  hands. 
On  they  bowled,  till  they  reached  a  lonely  farm- 
house that  stood  far  back  from  the  road,  the  long- 
neglected  driveway  showing  a  brown  and  yellow 
tangle  of  last  year's  weeds,  the  windows,  doors, 
and  steps  of  the  mansion  indicating  little  usage 
and  no  care.  A  white  sun  simmered  along  the 
much-rutted  country  road.  The  fields  in  the  dis- 
tance looked  yellow  and  parched,  as  if  thirsting 
for  rain. 

The  house  itself  was  an  imposing  structure,  but 
had  long  since  lost  the  glory  of  its  original  sur- 
roundings. It  had  been  the  product  of  riches  ;  it 
was  now  the  abode  of  penury. 

Here  had  lived  a  man  whom  the  Salvation 
Army  had  taken  up  and  reformed,  but  who,  lapsed 
from  the  grace  that  had  helped  and  cared  for  him, 
had  fallen  into  temptation,  and  was  at  the  present 
time  serving  out  his  term  in  State  Prison.  The 
wife  had  appealed  to  her  husband's  old  comrades 
for  help  in  some  matter  pertaining  to  her  hus- 
band's situation ;  and  Stacey  had  volunteered  to  go 
and  inquire  into  the  matter,  hoping  thus  to  secure 
a  long  and  uninterrupted  tlte-d-tete  with  Captain 
Molly. 

Molly,  however,  had  been  on  her  guard  during 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY  S    ANSWER  22Q 

the  drive.  She  did  not  attempt  to  deny  to  nerself 
that  it  was  a  delight  unparalleled  to  be  at  his  side; 
to  smile  at  his  attempts  to  aid  her  as  she  en- 
tered the  carriage  —  he  elected  to  appear  clumsy  ; 
to  look  into  his  eyes,  all  the  time  conscious  of 
a  desire  to  pull  those  horrible  glasses  off ;  to  watch 
the  quick,  nervous  expression  of  his  lips  and  his 
fingers ;  but  she  would  never  allow  him  to  take 
the  lead  in  conversation,  for  fear  —  of  what  ? 

Ah !  that  she  would  not  even  whisper  to  her- 
self. After  the  core  of  the  story,  if  story  it  was, 
had  been  reached,  she  held  him  to  it  with  ques- 
tions and  exclamations  and  snatches  of  delightful 
sentiment  regarding  the  scenery,  or  perhaps  some 
reminiscence  of  yesterday's  experience  among  her 
poor  people. 

If  she  had  known  the  depth  of  her  self-deceiv- 
ing —  this  soft -eyed,  pure-minded  maiden  ;  if  she 
had  dreamed  that  Stacey  led  her  fancy  at  his  will, 
not  yet  being  willing  to  risk  a  declaration ;  if  she 
could  have  seen  that  he  saw  through  the  transpar- 
ency of  her  guile,  how  her  indignation  would  have 
flamed  forth  ! 

There  was  but  one  question  that  troubled  him. 
If  he  should  win  her  in  this  guise,  how  was  he  to 
explain  ?  how  change  his  manners  and  his  life  ? 
This  thing  puzzled  him  till  they  drew  up  at  the 
gate  of  the  queer  old  mansion. 

"It's  an  old-timey  place,"  she  said;  "looks 
quaint  and  ghostlike  !  " 


230  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Will  you  sit  here,  or  go  in?"  he  asked.  "The 
horses  are  perfectly  safe." 

He  knew  them  well ;  they  were  his  own,  a  re- 
cent purchase. 

"  Oh  !  I'll  get  out.  I'm  very  fond  of  old  houses. 
I  am  sure  this  one  has  a  history,"  she  said.  "I 
like  to  find  the  heart  of  things  —  if  there  is  any 
heart  to  find.  I'm  afraid,  though,  it  is  as  dismal 
within  as  without." 

It  was  dismal. 

A  yellow  dog,  with  a  dirty,  crumpled  blue  ribbon 
tied  round  his  neck,  ran  snarling  and  snivelling 
to  the  door.  He  was  followed  by  a  white-capped, 
frowsy-headed  woman,  slovenly  from  her  head  to 
her  heels.  Captain  Molly  went  in  slowly,  linger- 
ingly.  There  were  at  least  fresh  air  and  sunshine 
outside ;  while  the  mingled  odors  of  cabbage  and 
kerosene  oil  saluted  her  delicate  nostrils  as  she 
entered  —  strong  reminder  of  the  slums. 

A  wide  door  led  into  the  desolate  room  called 
by  courtesy  the  parlor.  But  before  she  went  in, 
Molly's  eyes  travelled  in  the  opposite  direction, 
where  she  saw  a  wide-eyed  baby  seated  on  the 
floor,  a  dirty  white  kitten  in  his  grasp. 

A  wild  cry  of  delight,  and  with  one  bound  she 
had  reached  the  child. 

"  O  my  dear  friend !  "  she  gasped,  "  we  have 
found  Sebastian  !  little  Sebastian  !  No  other  child 
could  look  like  him  !  Oh,  the  goodness  of  the  dear 
Lord  !  Come  here,  you  beauty  of  beauties  !  How 


CAPTAIN    MOLLYS    ANSWER  23! 

did  he  get  in  this  far-off  place  ?  Tell  me,  madam, 
what  fairy  brought  him  ?  O  madam,  he  cannot 
be  your  child  —  or  any  one  belonging  to  you ! 
See,  he  knows  me  !  he  remembers  me  !  " 

The  little  fellow  was  clinging  to  her  now,  his 
beautiful  eyes  laughing  as  of  old,  full-throated, 
chin-dimpled,  with  the  white  and  the  rose-leaf 
blending  on  his  cheek  —  the  heavenly  face  had  suf- 
fered no  diminution  of  loveliness.  No  trouble 
seemed  to  have  dimmed  the  lustre  of  his  smile,  as 
she  lifted  him  in  her  arms. 

"  Why,  no,  miss,  that's  none  o'  mine,  miss ;  but 
I've  been  caring  for  him,  though  really  I  hadn't 
enough  to  care  for  myself,"  was  the  quick  but 
somewhat  subdued  reply. 

"  But  how  came  he  here?  Quick,  I  am  longing 
to  know.  His  father  and  his  mother,  poor  souls, 
are  dying  by  inches.  Nobody  dreamed  he  was 
still  alive." 

"  La,  ma'm,  it's  quite  a  story  ; "  and  the  woman 
fumbled  at  her  cap-strings.  "  Well,  you  see,  Jacob, 
that's  my  son,  went  into  the  city  one  day  with  a 
load  of  potatoes.  I  says,  says  I,  'Jacob,  take  the 
covered  wagon,  and  go  down  to  Cousin  Lizabeth's, 
an'  git  my  feather  bed  my  mother  left  me.'  You 
see,  I'd  lended  it  to  her,  an'  she'd  writ  that  she 
didn't  want  it  no  longer. 

"  So  Jacob,  he'd  sold  all  the  potatoes, — we  keep 
'em  in  sand,  and  they're  right  good  for  late  ones, 
—  'n'  got  the  feather  bed.  By  that  time,  ther'd  a 


232  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

storm  come  up.  Jacob  sayd  it  rained  awful,  V  he 
got  wet  through.  So  he  stopped  in  a  barroom  to 
git  some  bitters,  jest  as  his  father  used  to,  an' 
stayed  later  than  he  thought.  Anyway,  he  didn't 
git  home  till  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  an'  me  a- 
waitin'  an'  a-waitin'. 

"When  he  drives  into  the  yard,  bless  you,  a 
child  begins  to  cry.  It  wasn't  rainin'  then,  'n'  I 
stood  on  the  porch  with  a  candle.  He  said  he 
guessed  the  wagon  was  bewitched  —  an'  come  to 
look,  there  were  this  baby !  Well,  you  might  'a' 
knocked  me  down  with  a  straw.  Nobody  can't 
tell  how  it  came  there — Jacob  couldn't.  Some 
one  must  'a'  throwed  it  in  when  he  was  drinkin'. 

"  Of  course  it  had  to  be  taken  in  and  cared  for ; 
and  then  it  got  sick,  and  I  nussed  it  well,  and 
there's  the  hull  story.  I'm  glad  you've  found  it ; 
'cause  Jacob  can't  abide  children,  and  they  do 
cost.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  this  un'd  cost  me 
three  dollars  a  week,  or  nigh  onto  it.  I  ought  to 
have  pay  for  his  keep." 

"You  shall  —  all  you  ask;  but  didn't  you  know 
the  child  had  been  advertised  in  the  papers  ?  " 

"  Papers ! "  the  woman  exclaimed  with  a  blank 
look.  "  No  papers  never  gits  here.  And  we 
don't  have  no  neighbors  likewise  to  tell  us  news. 
It's  livin'  like  heathen  we  be." 

"But  how  did  you  manage  to  dress  him  ? "  asked 
Captain  Molly,  giving  the  little  one  another  hug. 

"  Oh  !  I  had  a  lot  of  Jacob's  old  clothes  he  wore 


CAPTAIN    MOLLY  S    ANSWER  233 

when  he  was  a  baby.  They  was  a  little  old- 
fashioned;  but  they  served,  and  so"  — 

"  Of  all  things  !  "  and  Captain  Molly  laughed 
heartily,  raining  kisses  on  the  cherub  face.  "  Oh, 
I'm  so  glad  !  so  happy  !  Mr.  John  Hardy,  when 
shall  we  go  home  ?  And  what  shall  I  put  round 
this  blessed  baby  ?  To  think  that  his  father  had 
sense  enough  to  throw  him  into  a  feather  bed, 
instead  of  into  the  river  !  I  shall  always  respect 
Sebastian's  judgment  after  this.  Yes,  I  know  I 
am  talking  the  veriest  nonsense,"  she  ran  on, 
catching  Stacey's  smile  ;  "  but  if  you  knew  how 
much  —  I  —  love  —  this  —  blessed  baby  !  "  every 
word  emphasized  by  a  hug  that  almost  sent  poor 
Stacey  wild  with  envy. 

The  business,  what  there  was,  was  speedily  ar- 
ranged. The  good-hearted  matron  insisted  on 
setting  before  them  a  pitcher  of  milk,  with  bread 
and  honey,  of  which  the  two  gladly  partook.  A 
sort  of  bonnet  was  found  for  baby  Sebastian,  that 
had  been  lying  in  the  dark  for  twenty  years  at 
least ;  and  a  shawl  was  fished  out  of  an  old  bureau 
drawer,  in  which  to  wrap  him. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  three  were  on  their 
way  home. 

The  baby  was  rather  a  bond  between  Molly  and 
Stacey ;  for  whenever  Molly  talked  to  it  and  cod- 
dled it,  Stacey  put  his  face  as  close  to  hers  as  he 
dared,  to  fondle  it  after  his  fashion,  and  do  his 
part  of  the  baby-talk. 


234  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

Presently  there  came  out  a  round,  white,  glori- 
ous moon  ;  but  before  that  the  baby  was  lying, 
fast  asleep,  against  Molly's  bosom,  and  to  Stacey 
the  two  looked  like  some  heavenly  vision.  How 
should  he  quiet  the  human  cry  in  his  breast  ? 
Surely  the  time  had  come  now,  if  ever. 

Now  and  then  they  passed  a  pretty  farmhouse, 
here  and  there  a  cot  nestling  close  to  the  bosom 
of  mother  earth.  Far  away  the  green  hills  stood 
in  silent  beauty,  like  guardians  of  the  hamlet. 
Across  the  fields  the  snake-like  fences  ran  hither 
and  yon,  broidered  with  gold  and  red  from  fuzzy 
bushes  and  wandering  vines.  It  was  all  so  tran- 
quil !  and  so  was  this  vision  at  his  side. 

His  heart  grew  hungry.  He  could  stand  it  no 
longer,  this  devouring  passion,  this  longing  for  an 
answering  love. 

"  It's  no  use,  Miss  Stanley,"  he  said  in  a  deep, 
manly  voice,  after  a  long  silence.  "  I  have  tried 
to  be  discreet,  prosaic,  fraternal ;  but  every  phase 
has  given  me  the  lie  direct.  By  Heaven,  I  love 
you  deeply,  passionately,  for  life  and  death,  for 
earth  and  for  eternity." 

And  she,  with  blended  hope  and  fear,  had  she 
looked  for  this  declaration  ? 

"  Mr.  John  Hardy  —  you  —  forget  "  —  she  be- 
gan formally. 

"  Of  course  I  forget  —  I  forget  every  dictate 
of  prudence  —  I  forget  everything  but  that  I  am 
crazy  for  love  of  you  —  you,  the  first  woman  I 


CAPTAIN  MOLLY'S  ANSWER  235 

have  ever  thought  of  with  a  prayer,"  and  his  voice 
sounded  almost  like  a  sob.  "  You  must  give  me 
a  little  hope,"  he  went  on  tenderly. 

"  But  what  have  I  to  do  with  such  hope  ?  You 
know  I  am  devoted  to  my  work.  I  cannot  leave 
it.  No,  no,  I  cannot ! " 

"  I  don't  ask  you  to.  No,  indeed  !  I  love  you 
so  much.  Believe  me,  my  love  is  unselfish.  I  — 
had  hoped  that  sometimes  you  gave  me  a  thought 
—  not  as  you  think  of  others." 

She  was  looking  at  the  baby's  face,  that  seemed 
unearthly  beautiful  in  the  moonlight.  It  smiled 
as  she  looked.  She  was  glad  —  she  was  sorry  — 
she  was  happy  —  she  was  frightened  at  her  own 
thoughts  and  emotion. 

"  You  have  no  word  for  me  ?  "  he  went  on,  draw- 
ing his  breath  hard. 

"  Not  —  now,"  was  the  almost  inarticulate  an- 
swer. 

"  But  some  time  —  some  time,  my  own,  you  will 
give  me  an  answer  ?  You  do  not  dislike  me  ? " 

She  looked  up.  Her  smile  was  rare  and  radiant. 
What  more  could  he  ask  ?  But  she  spoke,  — 

"  Some  time,  perhaps  —  if  you  will  be  patient." 

"  Patient  !  Your  love  is  worth  waiting  for  a 
thousand  years  !  "  he  made  passionate  reply. 

"  Oh,  not  quite  so  long  as  that !"  she  said,  laugh- 
ing softly. 

"  Yes  ;  if  only  at  last  in  that  Golden  City  you 
have  taught  me  to  believe  in,  it  is  given  to  me," 


236  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

he  said.  "  I  will  wait  with  all  the  patience  you 
can  desire,  if  you  will  answer  me  one  or  two  ques- 
tions :  I  am  not  wholly  indifferent  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no  ! "  she  said,  the  red  blood  deepen- 
ing the  roses  of  her  cheek. 

«  YOU  —  have  never  loved  another  —  there  is 
no  one  "  -  he  hesitated. 

"Spare  me  your  questions,"  she  faltered,  her 
pulses  leaping  with  a  sudden  ecstasy  —  "  and  be 
patient." 


THE    BAPTISM    OF    FIRE  237 


CHAPTER   XXX 

THE    BAPTISM    OF    FIRE 

One  living  hell  of  flame. 

JUST  here  my  pen  falters  and  fails.  Human 
love,  sorrow,  grief,  joy,  defy  description.  One 
might  as  well  attempt  to  describe  how  the  lily 
bursts  into  bloom,  or  a  soul  is  born  into  God's 
eternity. 

I  can  only  say,  the  awful  gloom  that  encom- 
passed two  souls  broke  into  the  sunburst  of  dawn, 
and  then  into  the  full  blue  and  golden  glory  of 
the  perfect  day. 

When  Reine  first  heard  that  the  child  was 
found,  like  a  scared  dove  she  flew  to  her  hus- 
band's bosom  ;  and  there  he  held  her  until  soft, 
white  arms  went  round  his  neck,  and  the  sweet 
voice  of  his  baby  wakened  his  dead  heart  to  the 
resurrection  of  a  new  manhood. 

"  O  my  boy !  "  he  sobbed  from  an  overflowing 
heart  ;  "may  God  take  thee  from  me  forever,  if  I 
ever  taste  the  accursed  thing  again  !  " 

Captain  Molly  then  knew  what  it  was  to  take 
deep  draughts  of  happiness  from  the  cup  of  bliss. 
To  see  this  man,  so  long  bound  in  chains  that 


238  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

seemed  adamantine,  surrender,  to  feel  that  some- 
thing of  her  influence  had  been  at  work  in  his 
heart,  was  full  and  complete  happiness.  Every- 
body in  Paradise  Flats  was  hilarious  over  the 
coming  home  of  Baby  Bassett.  There  had  been 
much  of  head-shaking,  of  whispering  in  dark 
places,  much  of  pity,  much  of  gossip  ;  but  now  the 
whole  house  was  jubilant.  Through  love  a  man 
had  been  saved  ;  through  the  sweetest,  the  holi- 
est, the  divinest  human  love, — that  of  wife  and 
child. 

Throngs  came  in  to  see  the  wonder  that  had 
been  wrought ;  and  the  beautiful  child,  like  a  prince 
on  his  throne,  smiled  graciously  on  them  all. 

He  looked  round  at  the  frankincense  and  myrrh 
they  brought  him  in  the  shape  of  candy  cats,  nuts, 
sugar  dogs,  tin  trumpets,  and  what  not,  quite  un- 
certain which  one  to  appropriate  first. 

The  suit  of  new  mourning  that  the  pale-faced 
little  dressmaker  up-stairs  had  nearly  finished  was 
bought  outright  by  Molly,  and  transferred  to  an- 
other party.  Nan  played  her  last  lesson,  which  mas- 
ter Sebastian  seemed  to  appreciate  more  than  all 
the  rest. 

But  when  the  Salvation  Army  came  down  the 
street,  and  stopped  to  a  man  to  sing  — 

"Rescue  the  perishing," 

and  after  that  cheered  lustily,  three  times  three, 
the  men  swinging  their  hats  and  the  women  their 


THE    BAPTISM    OF    FIRE  239 

bonnets,  Sebastian  the  elder,  who  was  holding 
his  boy  in  his  arms  to  hear  the  music,  gave  the 
child  to  his  mother,  and,  falling  on  his  knees, 
with  bowed  head,  wept  as  only  the  strong  man 
weeps,  —  terribly,  convulsively. 

Now  indeed  the  man  began  to  recognize  his 
own  value  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man.  He  had 
waked  up  all  over  !  No  more  dreams,  no  more 
idling.  The  devils  had  departed  —  he  had  found 
his  soul ! 

Banker  Stanley  listened  to  the  whole  history 
with  unabated  interest. 

"  It  will  be  joyful  news  to  that  cousin  of  his," 
he  said.  "  By  the  way,  I'll  keep  an  eye  on  young 
Sebastian." 

"  Yes  ;  it  will  be  good  news  indeed,  poor  soul ! 
I  expect  a  visit  from  her  soon,"  Molly  said.  "I 
have  written  her  all  about  it." 

"  What  will  she  do,  I  wonder  ? "  the  banker 
mused.  "  I  should  like  to  see  that  woman." 

"  She  will  go  straight  back  to  England." 

"  And  can't  we  dispose  of  this  little  French 
Reine,  in  some  way  ? "  he  asked,  laughing.  "  Really, 
there  ought  to  be  some  kind  of  poetic  justice 
meted  out  to  this  other  woman  whose  life  has 
been  spoiled." 

"  If  you  could  see  little  Reine,  father,  you 
would  not  say  that,  even  in  jest.  Her  love  and 
her  simple  faith  in  him  have  been  the  salvation 
of  her  husband.  So  patient  and  pretty  and  in- 


24O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

telligent,  she  deserves  the  happiness  she  en- 
joys." 

"But  now  he  has  come  to  his  senses,  this  man 
who  was  well-born  and  of  consequence  in  his  own 
country,  won't  he  regret  that  he  has  married  be- 
neath him  ?" 

"  Beneath  him  ! "  ejaculated  Molly,  with  a 
stormy  gesture;  "she,  in  her  woman's  kingdom 
of  love  and  trust,  was  immeasurably  above  him 
when  he  married  her,  and  she  has  never  fallen 
from  that  height  of  grace.  I  believe  that  now 
Sebastian  loves  her,  even  adores  her,  for  the  care, 
patience,  and  sweetness  with  which  she  has  borne 
his  luckless  habits.  As  for  his  cousin,  she  dis- 
claims all  intention  to  marry,  and  will  join  a  sis- 
terhood, which,  she  says,  will  alone  reconcile  her 
to  life.  I  am  quite  sure  that  even  were  poor  little 
Reine  to  die  she  would  never  marry  him." 

"Then,  it's  all  right,  little  woman,"  said  the 
banker  ;  "  but  how  about  yourself  ? " 

"  About  myself !  why,  papa  !  what  can  you 
mean  ? " 

"  I  mean  that  the  idea  of  having  an  old  maid  on 
the  scutcheon  of  the  Stanleys  is  utterly  odious  to 
me."  He  shook  his  head,  thrust  out  his  feet,  and 
lay  back  in  his  chair,  glaring  at  her. 

"  Father !  "  and  a  rich  bloom  dyed  all  her  face. 

"  I  repeat  it ;  it  is  odious  !  Possibly  Russell 
Stacey  will  soon  return.  I  wish  you  could  make 
up  your  mind  to  encourage  the  poor  fellow." 


THE    BAPTISM    OF    FIRE  24! 

"  Russell  !  "  she  grew  pale  again  —  "  no,  no, 
don't  speak  of  him  to  me.  You  know  how  I  feel, 
papa.  I  could  never  marry  him  !  " 

"  You  are  emphatic  on  the  pronoun,"  he  said 
slyly. 

"  Not  at  all  —  at  least,  I  didn't  mean  to  be," 
said  Molly  confusedly. 

"  Find  a  handsomer,  more  gifted,  or  richer  fel- 
low, if  you  can." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Molly  said  hurriedly,  rising  to 
go  ;  "  but  I'm  not  thinking  of  marriage.  Mr. 
Stacey  would  have  to  change  the  whole  course  of 
his  life — but  that  wouldn't  matter  —  I  —  I  have 
no  wish  to  marry." 

"Well,  how  about  your  —  your  printer?" 

"  My  printer  !  Papa,  you  are  too  bad  ! "  and 
now  her  face  was  suffused,  and  she  could  not  hide 
it.  His  quick  eye  detected  the  truth. 

"  Well,  whosever  printer  he  is  —  mine,  then, 
we'll  say,"  continued  the  impassive  old  man. 
"  Right  out  of  the  Salvation  Army  —  smart,  clever, 
almost  as  handsome  as  Stacey — I  don't  mind  say- 
ing that  I'd  like  to  help  that  fellow.  I've  taken  a 
tremendous  fancy  to  him.  Come  now,  puss,  what 
do  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  say  that  you're  a  horrid  tease,  and  that  I 
hate  the  very  sound  of  marriage.  My  mission  is 
marked  out  for  me,  and  I  am  determined  to  live 
my  life  in  my  own  fashion." 

"  So  there  now  ! "  said  the  banker,  still  laugh- 


242  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

ing,  as  if  he  enjoyed  her  confusion.  "All  right  ; 
but  if  you  should  happen  to  change  your  mind 
—  why — it  wouldn't  be  needful  to  change  your 
mission,  would  it  ?  " 

The  winter  passed,  and  the  tenants  of  Paradise 
Flats  still  held  their  own.  Sebastian  had  never 
touched  a  drop  of  liquor  since  the  day  his  baby 
was  lost.  The  child  grew  more  and  more  angeli- 
cal, and  more  and  more  beautiful,  if  that  could  be 
possible.  Sebastian  was  getting  up  plans  for  a 
modest  little  cottage  with  a  studio,  to  be  built  just 
outside  the  city.  He  had  been  very  successful, 
and  had  taken  part  of  a  studio  with  a  young  and 
aspiring  artist  down  town.  His  work,  at  once 
strong  and  graceful,  was  beginning  to  be  popular. 
Reine,  under  changed  circumstances  and  plenty  of 
sun  and  air,  had  improved  in  every  way.  There 
was  no  shadow  to  dim  the  light  of  her  pretty  face 
now.  She  seemed  fully  alive  to  the  exigencies 
of  the  hour,  and  consulted  Molly  on  matters  of 
the  toilet  and  of  culture.  Molly  gave  her  lessons, 
pointing  out  every  inelegance  of  language  and 
of  posture,  and  Reine  was  an  apt  pupil.  Her 
pretty  gowns,  made  now  of  more  expensive  mate- 
rial than  of  yore,  set  off  a  figure  that  no  artiste 
could  improve  ;  and  every  hour  spent  with  her  out- 
side of  her  many  out-door  duties  was  a  pleasure  to 
Molly.  Nan  shared  her  leisure  and  labors  as  usual. 

The  professor  had  written  to  Molly  in  extrava- 
gant terms  of  his  pupil. 


THE    BAPTISM    OF    FIRE  243 

"  She  needs  the  Conservatoire,  then  Berlin,"  he 
wrote.  "  I  am  going  to  give  the  world  a  prodigy. 
I  am  going  to  stand  her  up  in  the  Academy  to 
play  before  thousands  —  and  she  will  do  it  —  I 
have  no  fear,  but  only  do  not  let  her  lack  the  best 
of  nourishment." 

One  night,  while  the  professor  mused,  and  saw 
in  imagination  his  favorite  pupil  standing  crowned 
by  universal  acclamation  the  idol  of  the  hour,  he 
heard  the  clang  of  the  fire-bells. 

The  evening  was  still  and  hot. 

Wondering  where  the  fire  could  be,  he  looked  out. 

In  the  eastern  part  of  the  city,  near  the  river, 
a  red,  angry  glow  lighted  the  sky.  Now  and  then 
showers  of  live  sparks  shot  up  into  the  lurid  at- 
mosphere. 

"  Where  is  it  ?  "  he  cried  to  a  passing  watchman. 

"Paradise  Flats,"  was  the  indifferent  reply. 

With  a  wild  ejaculation,  the  man  turned  away, 
deadly  pale.  The  name  of  his  favorite  pupil  es- 
caped his  lips.  Dressing  rapidly,  he  went  down- 
stairs, and  out  upon  the  street.  The  blaze  had 
spread  and  deepened.  In  its  lurid  dyes  the  city 
grew  red.  The  great  tenement  house  belched  fire 
from  the  lower  doors  and  windows. 

It  was  a  grand  spectacle ;  but  the  knowledge 
that  human  life  might  be  sacrificed  lent  a  lurid 
horror  to  the  scene. 

Half  distracted,  shivering  with  a  nervous  chill, 
the  professor  hardly  knew  what  he  did  as  he 


244  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

shouldered  his  way  through  the  crowd,  calling  for 
little  Nan. 

"  Is  it  the  little  girl  that  plays  the  fiddle,  you 
mane  ?  "  asked  a  respectable-looking  woman  with  a 
baby  on  her  arm.  "  Well,  she  came  down  wid  me. 
I  wor  in  the  seventh  story,  —  and  a  death-trap 
it  is, —  but  when  we'd  got  most  half-way,  on  a  sud- 
dent  she  screamed  that  she'd  forgot  the  fiddle. 
'  My  fathers  ! '  I  cried,  'ye  won't  go  back  for  that 
dumb  thing  ! '  But  she  did,  and  Cap'n  Molly  'n  I 
both  entreatin'  her.  Then  Cap'n  Molly  flew  up 
afther  her,  an'  that  was  the  last  I  seen  of  either 
of  'em.  They'll  never  come  out  alive,  never,  an' 
all  for  a  fiddle  !  " 

"  I  charged  her  never  to  part  with  it,"  groaned 
the  professor.  "  And  not  only  I,  but  the  world,  is 
the  loser." 

The  scene  was  wild  beyond  description,  and 
grew  every  moment  more  appalling.  Engines  and 
men  were  put  to  their  utmost  skill.  As  fast  as 
the  flames  were  smothered  in  one  place  they  burst 
out  with  furious  intensity  at  some  other  point. 

Only  they  had  not  yet  reached  the  roof. 

Distracted  mothers  below  were  seeking  their 
children  ;  children  were  crying  for  their  parents  ; 
and  the  roar  of  the  demon-like  flames  sounded 
over  all. 

The  professor  threw  up  his  hands.  His  face 
was  stony,  his  glance  despairing.  Never  in  all 
his  life  had  he  been  so  moved. 


THE    BAPTISM    OF    FIRE  245 

"  There's  a  child  in  there  yet ! "  he  cried  at  last. 
His  voice  was  like  a  clarion. 

Then  all  suddenly,  as  a  vivid  lightning-flash 
startles  one  with  mingled  fear  and  admiration,  a 
sound  came  that  made  men  shiver  and  women  sob. 

The  clear,  long-drawn  tones  of  a  violin,  as  ten- 
der and  sweet  and  vibrant  as  if  played  in  the  calm- 
ness of  a  summer  morning,  or  under  the  spell  of 
a  listening,  delighted  audience. 

As  if  shocked  into  new  strength,  the  professor 
sprang  into  the  surging  crowd. 

"  It's  little  Nan !  my  pupil !  "  he  cried.  "  Some- 
one try  to  save  her ! " 

Then  swelled  up  a  cry  from  far  and  near,  — 

"Look!  there  they  stand,  and  the  child  playing 
for  dear  life !  "  Yes,  as  the  smoke  swayed  aside, 
there  the  two  stood.  Long  and  slowly  the  bow 
was  drawn.  But  Nan  and  Captain  Molly  were 
looking  upward. 

Just  then  a  carriage  dashed  on  the  scene.  A 
man  sprang  out. 

"  My  fortune  to  whoever  dares  to  rescue  them  ! " 

"  Mine  too  !"  shouted  the  professor. 

Clash  and  click  above  the  roaring  flames,  the 
cry  of  half-frantic  firemen,  came  the  sound  of  the 
cornet,  bugle,  and  fife.  A  section  of  the  Salvation 
Army  came  on  at  double-quick. 

"  Help  for  the  perishing  !  "  cried  a  stentorian 
voice  ;  and  at  the  head  of  the  column,  lo  !  Russell 
Stacey ! 


246  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  Every  man  here  is  a  hero ! "  he  cried  as  he 
rushed  forward,  and  into  the  heart  of  the  swaying 
multitude.  "If  I  fail,  I  can  count  upon  ten  more 
to  follow  me.  Every  man  is  a  hero !  " 

Ladders  were  fixed  in  new  places  under  his  di- 
rection, but  it  seemed  certain  death  to  attempt 
to  reach  the  roof.  But  Stacey  was  an  athlete  of 
the  highest  order,  —  had  been  nearly  all  his  life, 
—  had  courted  danger  merely  for  danger's  sake. 
Now  that  the  girl  he  loved  was  the  prize,  her 
life  the  guerdon,  what  would  he  not  do  ?  The 
man  absolutely  knew  no  fear,  and  that  was  his 
salvation.  He  knew  nothing  save  that  Molly  was 
on  the  top  of  that  hell  of  fire,  and  he  had  been 
sent  to  her  deliverance. 

Still  sounded  the  divine  tones  of  King  Solomon, 
now  soft,  now  loud ;  and  the  child,  whenever  she 
could  be  seen,  still  held  the  bow  with  the  vigor 
of  a  veteran,  still  looked  up. 

But  help  was  coming.  The  flames  had  not  yet 
burst  upon  the  roof,  not  where  they  were  stand- 
ing. 

Up,  clinging  to  the  pipes,  to  the  sills,  to  half- 
burnt  scaffolding,  where  the  house  had  lately  been 
repaired,  to  anything  that  gave  half  a  footing,  now 
covered  with  the  smoke  as  with  a  shroud,  now 
cheered  by  the  panic-stricken,  expectant  crowd  for 
some  step  more  secure  than  the  last,  anon  watched 
in  utter  silence  —  at  last  the  top  was  gained. 

The  two,  the  woman  and  the  girl,  did  not  know 


THE    BAPTISM    OF    FIRE  247 

the  blackened,  smoke-grimed  man  who  had,  at  the 
peril  of  his  life,  come  up  such  a  dangerous  height 
to  save  them.  They  had  not  expected  help.  They 
were  fully  prepared  to  die.  Meantime,  the  fire- 
men had  not  been  idle.  With  the  courage  and 
intrepidity  which  marks  them  as  heroes,  they  had 
by  another  passage  come  to  the  assistance  of  the 
man  who,  single-handed  and  alone,  had  gained  a 
secure  footing.  It  was  like  a  plunge  into  death 
to  go  or  be  carried  to  the  roof  of  the  house  below 
—  but  it  was  safely  accomplished. 

"  Hide  your  face  on  my  shoulder,"  said  a  hoarse 
voice,  "  and  trust  yourself  to  me." 

Molly  obeyed. 

"Tie  the  fiddle  to  you  in  some  way,"  he  said  to 
Nan,  "and  follow." 

Nan  was  not  afraid.  She  tied  the  fiddle  to  her 
neck,  then,  with  some  assistance,  swung  herself 
from  the  roof,  and,  in  the  midst  of  belching  fire 
and  strangling  smoke,  she  reached  the  roof  below, 
where  they  were  in  comparative  safety. 

"  Now  you  will  get  help  enough,"  said  Stacey 
with  laboring  breath,  and  sank  down  unconscious. 

A  salvo  of  shouts  went  up.  Women  embraced 
each  other,  strong  men  were  moved  to  tears  and 
sobs. 

Molly  and  Nan  were  brought  to  the  ground, 
burned  somewhat,  and  frightened  now  at  the  peril 
they  had  encountered  with  almost  superhuman 
bravery. 


248  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

FINIS    AND    HAPPINESS 
The  Army  leads. 

IT  seemed  almost  a  miracle  that  there  had  not 
been  a  holocaust  of  human  beings.  Had  the  fire 
occurred  later,  there  is  no  telling  how  many  pre- 
cious lives  might  have  been  sacrificed. 

Little  Crump  had  given  the  alarm  in  time,  and 
the  man  never  forgot  the  experience.  He  dared 
not  launch  his  anathemas  against  the  Salvation 
Army,  or  call  it,  as  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
doing,  the  "  Damnation "  Army.  He  furled  the 
black  flag,  and  surrendered  manfully.  Mandy 
might  go  to  all  their  meetings,  and  "  Fambly  "  too. 
Indeed,  he  intended  to  go  himself.  Mandy  might 
be  a  captain  or  a  lieutenant,  or  even  an  ensign. 
He  had  seen  those  brave  fellows  stand  under  the 
burning  walls  ready  to  sacrifice  their  lives  if  need 
be.  Their  faces,  lighted  up  by  a  sublime  resolve, 
were  as  the  faces  of  gods. 

The  banker's  carriage  still  stood  some  little  way 
from  the  scene  of  the  fire. 

Little  Nan  was  sobbing  in   Mrs.  McKisseth's 


FINIS    AND    HAPPINESS  249 

arms ;  and  the  banker  lifted  Molly  as  if  she  had 
been  a  child,  and  bore  her  to  the  carriage. 

"  Little  Nan  too,  father,"  she  gasped. 

Little  Nan  still  clung  to  the  old  Irish  woman  ;  so 
he  bundled  them  both  in,  and  took  the  remaining 
seat  himself. 

He  had  given  orders  that  Stacey  should  be 
carried  direct  to  his  own  house. 

"  You  will  have  to  nurse  that  man,"  he  said 
brusquely  to  his  daughter. 

"  Yes,  father,"  was  her  meek  reply. 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  was  ? " 

"  No,  father." 

"  Well,  it  was  your  prot^g/,  the  printer,  hang 
him  —  no,  I  mean,  bless  him  —  God  bless  him  !  " 
and  there  was  a  sob  in  his  voice. 

Molly  was  silent ;  but  oh,  the  wild,  wild  love  that 
leaped  up  then  and  there,  and  that,  unlike  the 
flames,  was  never  to  be  put  out  again. 

When  she  saw  him  his  whiskers  were  burned 
off.  When  she  saw  him  his  spectacles  were  laid 
aside,  and  his  wig  gone  forever.  When  she  looked 
into  his  eyes,  she  knew  whom  she  had  loved,  and 
knelt  down  and  kissed  the  hand  that  he  held 
weakly  out. 

She  saw  it  all  —  saw  that  the  exquisite  had 
towered  into  a  manhood  that  no  one  could  ques- 
tion ;  the  millionaire  had  dared  to  face  the  prob- 
lem of  poverty ;  the  egotist  had  become  a  helper 
of  his  kind, 


25O  CAPTAIN    MOLLY 

"  I  did  it  all  to  gain  your  love,"  he  whispered; 
"but  in  doing  it  I  found  a  higher  life." 

"  And  I  love  you  for  it,  dearly,  dearly  ! "  she  an- 
swered back,  her  voice  choked  with  tears.  "  How 
did  you  dare  to  try  to  save  me  ? " 

"Love,"  he  answered;  "just  love.  I  meant  to 
save  you,  or  die  with  you.  Are  you  glad  I  am 
Stacey  ? "  he  asked. 

She  hid  her  face. 

"  I  think  I  shall  always  love  two  men,"  she 
made  reply  —  "  Russell  Stacey  and  John  Hardy." 

There  were  two  weddings  not  long  after. 

At  one  of  them  the  wealth,  beauty,  and  fashion 
of  the  city  assisted. 

At  the  other  the  members  of  the  Salvation 
Army  had  the  seats  of  honor,  while  Professor 
Andromo  thundered  at  the  organ,  as  happy  in 
the  recovery  of  his  best  pupil  as  if  he  had  been 
left  a  fortune  of  millions. 

Ensign  Harry  and  little  Nan  were  Captain 
Molly's  bridesmaids ;  and  present,  in  their  best, 
were  the  denizens  of  Paradise  Flats.  Every  one 
of  the  inmates  received  an  invitation,  bevelled 
cards,  satin  paper,  and  silk-tied  envelopes.  They 
never  forgot  that  wedding.  The  invitations  were 
sacredly  kept  under  Bible-covers,  in  quaint  old 
pieces  of  furniture,  inside  of  old  books  that  were 
seldom  opened. 

They  were  kept  for  their  children  and  children's 
children,  to  show  in  the  years  to  come  what  kind 


FINIS   AND    HAPPINESS 


and  loving  interest  had  been  taken  in  them  by 
those  in  the  so-called  higher  walks  of  life. 

Sebastian  built  his  home,  and  became  a  popular 
artist.  He  was  always  a  grave,  silent  man,  de- 
voted to  his  wife  and  child,  and  with  a  fixed  pur- 
pose some  time  to  cross  the  ocean  and  meet  his 
kindred  as  man  to  man. 

Russell  Stacey  and  Molly  were  happy  in  each 
other,  and  in  their  reminiscences  of  the  past.  In 
private,  it  was  said  that  her  husband  called  her 
"  Captain  ;  "  but  I  do  not  know  if  that  was  so.  It 
was  certain  that  Jacko,  the  cat  with  the  velvety 
eyes,  had  always  the  post  of  honor  in  a  well- 
cushioned  armchair. 

Both  Molly  and  her  husband  hold,  as  the  bright- 
est souvenir  of  their  homes,  their  certificate  of 
membership  in  the  Salvation  Army.  At  all  times 
and  in  all  ways  they  help  on  the  grand  cause  with 
their  money  and  influence,  always  ready  and  will- 
ing to  speak  or  labor  in  what  they  consider  the 
most  glorious  work  of  the  century,  —  the  redemp- 
tion and  upbuilding  of  mankind. 


THE   END. 


LEE  AND  SHEPARD'S  POPULAR  FICTION 


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story-teller,  and '  His  Triumph  '  is  also  her  triumph."  —  Philadelphia  Keystone. 

Like  a  Gentleman.     By  MARY  A.   DENISON.      Price,  cloth, 

$1.00;  paper,  50  cents. 

"  The  story  of  one  who  drank  '  like  a  gentleman '  is  one  of  Mrs.  DENISON'S 
best  stories.  The  lovers  of  romance  will  pronounce  it  charming,  and  will  be 


JJothmell.     By  MARY  A.  DENISON.     Price,  cloth,  $1.00;  paper, 
50  cents. 

"The  style  is  clear  and  bright,  abounding  in  little  novel  pictures  and  delicate 
touches.  Rothmell  is  a  brilliant  surgeon  with  a  magnetic  eye,  but  with  a 
penchant  in  earlier  life  for  marrying  rich  women,  which,  indulged  in,  gives 
mm  considerable  after  trouble." —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

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,      AMANDA   M.   DOUGLAS*  NOVELS 

Osborne  of  Arrochar.     By  AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS.     Price, 
cloth,  $1.50;  paper,  50  cents. 

"In  this  novel,  the  author  introduces  us  to  an  interesting1  family  of  girls, 
who,  in  default  of  the  appearance  of  the  rightful  heir,  occupy  an  old,  aristocratic 
place  at  Arrochar.  Just  as  it  has  reached  the  lowest  point  of  dilapidation, 
through  lack  of  business  capacity  on  the  part  of  the  family,  Osborne  appears 
to  claim  his  inheritance,  and  the  interesting  problem  presents  itself  of  marry- 
ing one  of  the  daughters  or  turning  the  family  out.  The  author  thus  gives 
herself  a  fair  field  to  display  her  skill  in  the  painting  of  character,  the  manage- 
ment of  incident,  and  the  construction  of  the  dialogue.  She  has  been  in  a 
large  degree  successful.  We  feel  that  we  are  dealing  with  real  persons ;  and, 
as  to  the  management  of  the  story,  it  is  sufficient  praise  to  say  that  the 
interest  is  cumulative.  The  book  will  add  to  the  author's  reputation."  —  School 
Journal,  N.  Y. 

The  Heirs  of  Bradley  House.    By  AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS. 
Price  $1.50. 

*'  The  author  has  won  a  most  honorable  place  in  the  literary  world  by  the 
character  as  well  as  cleverness  of  her  work.  Her  books  are  as  clean  and 
fresh  and  invigorating  as  a  morning  in  May.  If  she  is  not  deep  or  profound, 
she  stirs  in  the  heart  of  her  reader  the  noblest  impulses ;  and  whosoever 
accomplishes  this  has  not  written  in  vain." — Chicago  Saturday  Evening 
Herald. 

"Whom  Kathie  married.    By  AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS.    Price 
$1.50. 

Miss  DOUGLAS  wrote  a  series  of  juvenile  stories  in  which  Kathie  figured; 
and  in  this  volume  the  young  lady  finds  her  destiny.  The  sweetness  and 
purity  of  her  life  is  reflected  in  the  lives  of  all  about  her,  and  she  is  admired 
and  beloved  by  all.  The  delicacy  and  grace  with  which  Miss  DOUGLAS  weaves 
her  story,  the  nobility  of  her  characters,  the  absence  of  everything  sensational, 
all  tend  to  make  this  book  one  specially  adapted  to  young  girls. 

A  Woman's  Inheritance.    By  AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS.    Price 
$1.50. 

"  Miss  DOUGLAS  is  widely  known  as  a  writer  of  excellent  stories,  all  of  them 
having  a  marked  family  likeness,  but  all  of  them  bright,  fascinating,  and 
thoroughly  entertaining.  This  romance  has  to  do  with  the  fortunes  of  a  young 
woman  whose  father,  dying,  left  her  with  what  was  supposed  to  be  a  large 
property,  but  which,  under  the  management  of  a  rascally  trustee,  was  very  neai 
being  wrecked,  and  was  only  savea  by  the  self-denying  devotion  of  one  wha 
was  strictly  under  no  obligation  to  exert  himself  in  its  behalf.  The  interest  of 
the  story  is  well  sustained  to  the  very  close,  and  the  reader  will  follow  the 
fortunes  of  the  various  characters  with  an  absorbed  fascination."  —  New  Bed- 
ford Mercury. 

Sydiiie  Adriance.    By  AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS.    Price  $1.50. 

In  this  book,  the  heroine,  being  suddenly  reduced  to  poverty,  refuses  an 
offer  of  marriage,  because  she  thinks  it  comes  from  the  condescension  of  pity 
rather  than  from  the  inspiration  of  love.  She  determines  to  earn  her  living, 
becomes  a  governess,  then  writes  a  book,  which  is  successful,  and  inhents  a 
fortune  from  a  distant  relative.  Then  she  marries  the  man —  But  let  r.s  not 
tell  the  story.  The  author  has  told  it  in  a  charming  way. 

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VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND'S  BOOKS 

A.  Boston  Girl's  Ambition.     By  VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND. 

Price  $1.50. 

"  This  is  a  grand  story,  grandly  told.  The  little  mists  which  went  to  make  up 
the  shadows  of  the  years  in  the  lives  of  two  young  people,  the  sufferings  and 
privations  of  Dorrice  and  Carryl,  their  struggle  upward,  and  the  happiness 
which  smiled  upon  them  at  the  end  of  the  struggle,  will  cause  the  story  to 
linger  long  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  its  readers."  —  Washington  Chronicle. 

That  Queer  Girl.    By  VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND.    Price  $1.50. 

The  "  Queer  Girl  "  is  a  charming  character,  and  so  is  Rowan,  the  real  hero. 
She  is  "queer"  only  in  being  unconventional,  brave,  and  frank,  —  "an  old- 
fashioned  girl."  The  girls  who  follow  her  history,  and  that  ol  her  pleasant 
companions,  are  sure  of  being  delightfully  entertained;  and  they  may,  if  they 
will,  take  a  lesson  from  brave,  unselfish  Madeline. 

Daryll  Gap.     By  VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND.     Price  $1.50. 

The  celebrity  of  VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND  as  an  authoress,  her  brilliant 
descriptive  powers,  and  pure,  vigorous  imagination,  will  insure  a  hearty  wel- 
come for  the  above-entitled  volume,  written  in  the  writer's  happiest  vein. 

"  A  story  of  the  petroleum  days,  and  of  a  family  who  struck  oil.  Her  plots 
are  well  arranged,  and  her  characters  are  clearly  and  strongly  drawn."  — 
Pittsburg  Recorder. 

Lienox  Dare.    By  VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND.     Price  $1.50. 

A  story  of  New  England  people,  and  of  life  associated  with  Hampton 
Beach  and  its  vicinity.  The  plot  is  natural  and  well  treated,  and  the  senti- 
ments pure.  The  story  is  very  entertaining,  and,  to  the  thoughtful  reader, 
instructive  and  stimulating. 

A  "Woman's  Word,  and  how  she  kept  it.    By  VIRGINIA  F. 

TOWNSEND.     Price  $1.50. 

"This  is  a  thoroughly  charming  story,  natural,  wholesome,  and  extremely 
interesting.  The  heroine  is  a  delightful  creation,  and  all  the  dramatis  persona 
are  remarkably  well  drawn.  It  is  pleasant  to  come  across  a  novel  so  entirely 
worthy  of  praise,  and  we  commend  it  without  reserve  to  all  our  readers."  — 
Charleston  News. 

Mostly  Marjorie  Day.    By  VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND.    Price, 

cloth,  $1.50;  paper,  50  cents. 

In  this  book,  there  is  the  endeavor  of  a  noble  and  lovable  girl  to  escape  from 
the  conventionalities  which  fettered  her  life,  and  engage  in  some  serious  duty. 
She  became  a  nurse,  and,  in  the  end,  had  her  exceeding  great  reward.  It  is  a 
bright,  spirited,  and  sometimes  delicately  humorous  story,  with  a  well  managed 
plot,  and  life-like  characters. 

But  a  Philistine.    By  VIRGINIA  F.  TOWNSEND.     Price  $1.50. 

One  of  the  most  pleasing  works  of  this  author.  It  is  a  story  of  natural 
thoughts  rather  than  events ;  and  it  is  the  author's  unique  coupling  of  passive 
subject  and  vigorous  style  that  gives  the  work  its  attractive  quality.  The 
characters  are  strong,  and  several  of  the  scenic  descriptions  have  the  true  ring 
of  poetic  appreciation,  while  in  conversational  passages  the  diction  is  bright, 
pleasing,  and  varied. 

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J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE'S  NOVELS 

Neighbor  Jackwood.    By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    New    Revised 
Edition,  with  Autobiographical  Chapter  and  Portrait.  Price,  $1.50. 

"  It  sparkles  with  wit,  it  is  liquid  with  humor,  it  has  the  unmistakable  touch 
of  nature,  and  it  has  a  procession  of  characters  like  a  novel  of  SCOTT;  indeed, 
in  many  ways  it  recalls  that  great  master.  There  is  less  description  and  more 
action  in  it  than  is  habitual  with  SCOTT,  and  the  conception  of  some  of  its  sec- 
ondary characters,  such  as  the  crazy-brained  Edward  Longman,  would  not  be 
unworthy  of  him."  —  John  Burroughs, 


Neighbor's  Wives.    By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.    Price,  $1.50. 


"  A  new  edition  of  one  of  the  most  successful  of  this  favorite  author's  books.     I( 


Coupon  Bonds.     By  J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE.     Price,  cloth,  $1.50; 

paper,  50  cents. 

'"Coupon  Bonds  '  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  best  short  stories  ever  published 
in  this  country.  It  is  a  most  happy  and  felicitous  stroke.  It  is  brimful  of  the 
very  best  quality  of  humor,  —  the  humor  that  grows  naturally  out  of  the  char- 
acter and  the  situation,  and  it  moves  along  briskly,  without  any  urging  or 
pushing  by  the  author.  It  is  full  of  incident,  full  of  character,  full  of  novel 
and  ludicrous  surprises  and  situations;  and,  if  it  could  be  composed  into  a 
three-act  comedy,  would  be  as  irresistible  in  its  way  as  SHERIDAN'S  '  School  for 
Scandal.'  " —  Scnbner't  Monthly. 

Cudjo's  Cave.     By  J.   T.  TROWBRIDGE.      Price,  cloth,  $1.50; 
paper,  50  cents. 

Mr.  TROWBRIDGE'S  readers  are  accustomed  to  plenty  of  lively  incidents  and 
exciting  adventures,  and  in  this  volume  the  supply  is  surely  abundant.  The 
story  opens  with  the  adventures  of  a  Quaker  schoolmaster  in  Tennessee  pre- 
vious to  the  opening  of  the  late  war,  and  the  exciting  scenes  attendant  upon 
the  opening  of  the  great  struggle  between  North  and  South  are  portrayed  in  a 
graphic  manner.  Many  of  the  chapters  recall  the  stories  of  thrilling  adven- 
ture that  were  current  in  war  times. 

Three  Scouts.     By  J.   T.  TROWBRIDGE.     Price,  cloth,  $1.50; 
paper,  50  cents. 


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